


Bleed Out

by HazelBeka



Category: Naruto
Genre: ANBU - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Detective!Tenzou, Gen, Kakashi & Tenzou friendship, M/M, Maverick!Kakashi, Murder Mystery, Plot Driven, Seals Master!Iruka, Serial Killers, enough headcanon to melt your brain, gratuitous cameos, whodunit, world expansion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 06:06:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 103,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5036728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelBeka/pseuds/HazelBeka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Iruka’s confrontation with Kakashi before the chuunin exams, he’s targeted by a serial killer who seems to be picking off disrespectful chuunin. Iruka survives, but it’s only a matter of time before the killer returns to finish the job. Finding his name on the suspects’ list, Kakashi bullies his way onto Tenzou’s investigation in an attempt to clear his name and protect Iruka from the real threat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So, I decided to write a Naruto fanfiction and it somehow ended up being a serial killer murder mystery. This is a pretty long story - I've already written about 50,000 words and I think it'll end up at about 60-70K. I'll be updating every 2-3 days at the moment to try and not catch up with myself too quickly, but each chapter is rather long (this one's the shortest). I hope you enjoy!

The second body was discovered on a Tuesday morning when a concerned customer at the tattoo parlour tried to find out why the owner hadn’t opened the shop. He went around the back to the door that led to the upstairs apartment to find the wards down and the door unlocked. Upstairs, he opened the bedroom door and gagged on the smell of blood.

 The news travelled fast, and by the afternoon everyone knew that another kunoichi had been murdered in her own bed. Death was usually whispered about in Konoha, the news passed respectfully on and received with stoic grace. It was too common, even in peacetime, to be surprising. But as the name Hyuuga Eri spread from mouth to mouth, the news of her death spilt over into gossip. There was nothing normal about the way she’d died.

Kakashi heard about it when he returned with Team Seven from a particularly muddy D class mission. It was Iruka who told him, as he handed over a mission report covered in dirt. Iruka didn’t complain at all about the state of the paper, which was shocking enough for Kakashi to ask him what was wrong.

“Hm?” Iruka looked up from scanning the lines of spiky handwriting. “Sorry, what did you say, Kakashi-san?”

“You’re distracted,” Kakashi observed. “Did something happen?”

Iruka’s eyes widened in understanding. “Of course, you were out all morning, you wouldn’t have heard. Hyuuga Eri’s been killed. Tied to her bed and stabbed like poor Akane-san.”

Fujimoto Akane had been killed eleven days ago. News of her death had gone around much like Eri’s, although without the slight edge of hysteria that bordered the whispers now that two shinobi had been murdered within village walls.

Kakashi had never heard of Fujimoto Akane, but Eri’s name gave rise to a hazy face: middle aged, a crooked tooth in a wide grin, those unnerving Hyuuga eyes.

“Didn’t she own the tattoo shop?”

“That’s right. I heard she’s the one who inks the ANBU tattoos.”

That solidified the memory a little. She had laughed when Kakashi had flinched at the first touch of the needles on his skin. _Relax, kid. It’s not a weapon unless I make it one_.

“Did you know her?” Kakashi asked. It was almost a pointless question. Iruka knew everyone.

Iruka tapped a pen against his bottom lip, frowning. “Only to say hello to in passing. We weren’t friends, though I always admired her. I got the impression she was a more than capable shinobi – honestly, I’m surprised something like this happened to her.”

Behind Kakashi, the line for the mission desk was getting a little restless at the delay. Kakashi ignored it. Iruka didn’t seem to notice, which was further proof that he was affected by the news.

“Naruto’s dragging me out later to buy him food,” Kakashi said. Iruka looked startled by the change of subject. “You should come with us.”

“I’d like to,” Iruka started reluctantly, “but my shift doesn’t finish until eight.”

Kakashi beamed behind his mask. “That’s perfect timing. We’ll be meeting at Ichiraku.”

Iruka reached a hand up to tug nervously on the end of his ponytail. “Are you sure that’s not too late?”

“Maa, sensei.” Kakashi winked. “It’s a date.”

 

* * *

 

Umino Iruka had come to Kakashi’s attention years before they’d had Naruto in common, although they hadn’t really socialised before Naruto had brought them together. The first time Kakashi became aware of Iruka’s existence was the year of Iruka’s chuunin exams when Kakashi was nineteen. It was two years after Hyuuga Eri had inked the ANBU tattoo on his arm, and he was one of the masked elite chosen to accompany Sandaime to the chuunin exams, which were being held in Mist. Secretly, Kakashi thought the genin that year were disappointing, and he watched the first two rounds of the exams with disinterest. The rookies all seemed so old and yet so unskilled it was almost embarrassing. Some of them were older than Kakashi, and even the youngest were a good six or seven years older than Kakashi had been when he’d made chuunin.

When Iruka’s fight had begun in the tournament round, Kakashi didn’t bother to listen for his name. He briefly noted that a Konoha genin was in the ring: a nervous-looking boy, fifteen or sixteen, shorter and slighter than his opponent and definitely less confident. Kakashi didn’t even watch the first half of the match. He was too busy eyeballing the other dignitaries and their guards who sat in the private box with Sandaime. After all, he was ostensibly there for his hokage’s protection, in case someone was stupid enough to target him while he was outside Konoha.

It was Sandaime’s quiet chuckle that brought his attention back to the ring rather than the crackle of lightning or the cheers from the stadium. Kakashi glanced down and for the first time paid attention.

Iruka’s opponent was going all out, using an impressive lightning jutsu that Kakashi knew must be burning through his chakra. Iruka had a seal clutched in his hand and was activating a barrier, which didn’t waver at the onslaught of electricity. Just as Kakashi thought that Iruka’s tactic would be the safe but boring method of waiting out the attack until his opponent was low on chakra, Iruka drew another seal from a pocket with his other hand and, without dropping the barrier, sent a bright flare through the lightning to burst into red sparks in front of his opponent’s face.

Later, Kakashi would try, as an experiment, to activate two seals at the same time. He spent an hour on failed attempts until he had to admit that he simply didn’t have the chakra control required to keep the first seal active while he focused on his other hand. In the end, he didn’t bother to train himself to do it. He was more of a jutsu guy than a seal guy anyway.

Blinded by the flare, Iruka’s opponent stopped flinging lightning and instinctively put a hand to his eyes, blinking hard. Kakashi almost winced at how easily he fell for the distraction, coming into a defensive stance too late to avoid Iruka’s foot colliding squarely with his face. He hit the floor, and Iruka conjured a shadow clone and passed it something that Kakashi couldn’t make out from that angle, and then the other boy was on his feet again, angry but still half blinded and now outnumbered. Iruka’s taijutsu proved to be sharp and accurate, if not backed up by the raw strength of the other boy’s frame, whose physical advantage was now almost useless.

“It’s over,” Sandaime said quietly, for Kakashi’s ears only. Kakashi frowned, not sure why Sandaime was so sure when there was still ample opportunity for the larger boy to make a comeback, but then Iruka made his final move and Kakashi could only wonder how anyone could have seen it coming.

The real Iruka moved back from the fight, his clone preventing the other boy from following, and then Iruka simply threw a seal, which activated as it hit the ground, creating another barrier to trap the boy and the clone inside it and leaving Iruka standing outside. The fighting stopped, the boy staring warily around him, uncomprehending, and then the clone held up the seal that Iruka had passed it.

“That’s an explosive tag powerful enough to blow you to pieces,” Iruka said. He turned to the match mediator, who hovered outside the immediate fighting arena. “I’m not going to kill him. Call the match over.”

If it was a bluff, it earned points in Kakashi’s book for the sheer amount of balls it took to try and bluff through a chuunin exam. The mediator seemed to doubt Iruka too, and after a brief moment of consideration he announced there would be a pause in the fighting for Iruka to prove that he could kill a man with the set up he’d created without also hurting himself.

Iruka let the barrier down and the other boy growled something that Kakashi couldn’t hear, his face red with humiliation. And then Iruka set up the barrier around his patiently waiting clone, who set off the exploding tag. The burst of fire filled the small space, dissipating the clone instantly, fire licking the invisible walls and straining against them until Kakashi thought for one awful moment that it would break and Iruka would be consumed by it. And then it was over, and all that was left was an empty barrier full of smoke and scorched ground and the stunned mediator declared Iruka the winner.

Iruka looked up towards the box, eyes scanning the faces until they settled on Kakashi, and he smiled and waved. Only when Sandaime gave a cheerful wave back did Kakashi realise that Iruka wasn’t looking at him at all – why would he? The boy didn’t even know him – and for some reason he felt almost disappointed.

“How did you know he was going to win?” he asked Sandaime in the break before the next match.

Sandaime graced him with his grandfatherly smile. “Iruka-kun has a very expressive face. It’s the same look he gets when he knows he’s going to beat me at shogi, like he’s just seen the answer to a difficult problem. What did you think of him, Hound?”

“I’ve never seen anyone win a battle with a barrier,” Kakashi said, which didn’t exactly answer the question, but was a compliment in its own way.

Sandaime chuckled lightly. “Iruka-kun is very good with seals. Exceptional, really, for his age. I just wish he would put his skills to better use than playing practical jokes on an old man.”

It took Kakashi a moment to realise that Iruka was the famed troublemaker of the Hokage Tower he’d heard about but never personally fallen victim to.

“He’ll never make jounin,” he said. “Too little discipline, too little offensive power.”

Sandaime shrugged off his bluntness with the ease of practice. “He told me before coming here that he doesn’t want to try for jounin. This is as far as he’s aiming.”

Kakashi really stared at that. What kind of teenager didn’t dream of becoming an elite shinobi? Sandaime took out his pipe and lit it, oblivious to or ignoring Kakashi’s shock.

“Remind me, what’s his name?” Kakashi asked when Sandaime had taken his first puff of the pipe.

“Umino Iruka,” Sandaime pronounced with all of the exasperated affection that defined his relationship with Iruka. “Remember it, Hound. He’s going to be one hell of a chuunin.”

And years later, Kakashi would watch Iruka become the most loved teacher at the Academy, the tyrant of the mission room, the older brother to a boy whose body housed a monster, and those words would come back to him in Sandaime’s proud, confident voice. Kakashi watched Iruka smile and shout and flush pink when Kakashi teased him, and he couldn’t help but agree with the assessment. Umino Iruka was one hell of a chuunin.

 

* * *

 

When Iruka came off shift ten minutes late, he found Kakashi waiting for him in the corridor outside the mission room. He was leaning against the wall, face buried in a luridly coloured paperback, which he didn’t immediately stop reading when Iruka stopped, surprised, in the doorway. 

“Did you think I was going to stand you up?” Iruka asked, torn between amusement and exasperation.

Kakashi’s single visible eye finished scanning a particularly riveting paragraph and he memorised the page number and slipped the book into his vest pocket, finally looking up to smile at Iruka, the expression somehow still clear despite the mask covering half his face. “Maa, I’d never expect something so low of you, Iruka-sensei. I decided to be a gentleman and walk you down to Ichiraku.”

Iruka snorted, but couldn’t help the twitch of his lips. He turned to head out of the building, Kakashi trailing half a step behind. “Thanks for the thought, but I don’t need chivalry.”

Kakashi hummed in agreement. “But it’s nice to be offered.”

When they reached the ramen stand, a good hour and a half after the time Kakashi had told his team to meet them, he was actually impressed to see that the three genin were standing in the street, waiting impatiently. If he’d been in their shoes he would at least have ordered food by this time. He’d tried to make a bet with Iruka some weeks ago on how long it would take before the kids started turning up to training sessions on time (according to Kakashi’s schedule, that is, rather than the times he told them to turn up. To give them a sporting chance, he’d even started a pattern: Mondays were an hour late, Tuesdays an hour and a half, Wednesdays a mere forty-five minutes...). Iruka had refused to place a bet and had even had the audacity to scold Kakashi, as though he were in the wrong rather than the brats who couldn’t even grasp basic pattern recognition.

“You’re late,” Sakura accused when she spotted him, her chest puffing with indignation.

“Where have you been?” Naruto whined, clutching his stomach with an expression of agony. “I’m so hungry I think I’m dying.”

Unmoved by this display of outraged suffering, Kakashi shooed them towards the row of stools at the counter. They seriously expected food _and_ punctuality? Kids today were so demanding.

It was Sasuke who eventually brought up the murders. He’d been quiet for most of the meal, but that wasn’t unusual, so Kakashi was surprised when he looked up and asked, “Should we be worried about that serial killer?”

The question had been directed at Kakashi, but it was enough to quiet Naruto and Sakura, and it was Iruka who spoke up first.

“What makes you think it’s a serial killer?”

“That’s what people have been saying,” Sasuke said. “They’re calling him The 3am Killer because he comes for you in the middle of the night. I heard he stabs them in their beds and leaves them to bleed out.” His eyes gravitated back to Kakashi again. “That’s not a normal way to kill someone.”

Kakashi could hear the unspoken logic. _Leaving an enemy to bleed to death is inefficient. Attacking an enemy in their own territory is risky._ No right-minded shinobi would choose to kill that way.

“I think there need to be three victims to call it a serial killer,” he said, which maybe wasn’t a helpful comment judging by the look Iruka shot him.

“Does that mean he’s gonna kill other people?” Naruto asked in a small voice. Definitely not helpful.

Iruka lightly bit his lower lip. Kakashi knew the struggle he was facing: he wanted to be comforting, but he didn’t want to lie. “I hope not,” Iruka eventually settled for. “And I’m sure the three of you don’t have to worry about anything, but you should all make sure you lock up properly at night and don’t forget to set your wards. If you don’t feel safe, Naruto, you can always stay at my place.” He turned to Sasuke. “That goes for you too.”

“ANBU is investigating as we speak,” Kakashi added. “Hopefully they’ll catch this guy before he can hurt anyone else. He might not even have any more victims in mind. We don’t know enough yet to guess why Fujimoto-san and Eri-san were killed.”

The three genin considered this, and Kakashi met Iruka’s eye. A silent conversation passed between them, and then Kakashi turned away and idly mentioned how well Sasuke had performed on their mission that morning, which sparked the anticipated flare of Naruto’s competitive streak, and even though Sasuke gave Kakashi a flat look indicating that he knew full well what he was doing, the topic wasn’t raised again.

 

* * *

 

Tenzou sat on the floor of his apartment, blown up photographs and pages of notes spread out over the low coffee table and carpet around him. He leaned back against the sofa and sighed, scratching the stubble starting to itch at his jaw. To his left was everything he had that was related to the murder of Fujimoto Akane; to the right, Hyuuga Eri. In the middle he’d placed a sheet of lined paper torn from a notebook, which was blank except for the question written in black ink in the centre: _Why them?_  

The trouble was that no matter how much he scoured over the information he’d collected so far, he couldn’t find a connection between the two victims. All he could say was that both were chuunin-ranked shinobi and both were female and both had been killed in the same way. The wards at both houses had been down, although it wasn’t clear whether they’d been skilfully disabled or whether the victims had let their killer in, and the women had both been found lying on their backs, stabbed through the stomach so forcefully that the weapon had penetrated their backs as well, impaling them. The killer had taken the murder weapon with him, but it was probably a short sword, judging by the size of the wounds in the victims’ bodies and the depth of the holes stabbed through the mattress. Cause of death had been blood loss: a slow, agonising way to die. The victims’ hands had been bound to their bed frames with chakra wire, and the bruises on their wrists suggested they had been conscious as they’d bled out, but if they’d called for help it had been in vain. There had been seals in the rooms that blocked noise or chakra flares from penetrating the walls.

The 3am Killer they were calling him now, less than a day after his second victim’s body was found. It wasn’t even accurate. The medic who had examined the bodies had estimated time of death at about 2am for both women. They had bled out in less than twenty minutes.

Tenzou picked up two of the photos. Not the crime scene shots, but pictures of the victims when they’d been alive, both smiling at the camera, healthy, happy, unaware that they were going to be murdered. They were chuunin and they were female. What else? There must have been something else.

Akane had been twenty-seven; Eri fifty-one. Akane was close to her parents and sister and had a long-term boyfriend; Eri had been all but disowned by her family and hadn’t held a steady relationship for years. Akane was from a humble background: father a civilian, mother a chuunin; Eri was from a branch house of the Hyuuga clan and had inherited their bloodline limit. Akane was an archivist at the Hokage Tower; Eri was a tattooist.

Neither women had been sexually assaulted, and there was no sign of a struggle in either apartment. So far, Tenzou hadn’t been able to find evidence that they had known each other or had any friends in common. Akane didn’t have any tattoos and Eri hadn’t signed anything out of the archives in over three months. They’d never been on a mission together. No matter what angle Tenzou approached it from, he couldn’t find a connection between these two strangers who had both been killed, in all probability, by the same person.

Of course, he’d entertained the possibility that the second murder was a copycat, but Tenzou thought this was unlikely. He glanced around until he located a manila folder and leafed through it until he came across a photograph of the seal that had chakra-proofed the room, making it impossible for even the strongest chakra flare of distress to be sensed outside the killing ground. They’d had to track down a specialist to discover what it was – Tenzou had been surprised to learn that Umino Iruka, who he’d known vaguely as a teacher and mission desk worker, was also one of Konoha’s leading experts on seals – and a little research had revealed it to be on a list of forbidden seals locked away in the archives. It was amazing that even one person knew how to use it; the idea of a copycat killer also having access to restricted knowledge was unthinkable. Besides, there were details of Akane’s murder that hadn’t made it out of the ANBU offices but were fully replicated in Eri’s death. Tenzou had no doubts that the same person had killed both women.

Among the sheets of paper strewn over his living room floor, the ones that Tenzou’s eyes kept coming back to were the photographs of the victims as they’d been found. It was something about the pale skin against the dark red stains on the sheets beneath them. He didn’t mean to stare at them, but whenever he blinked himself out of his thoughts his gaze would be burning a hole through the images.

Eventually, Tenzou put everything back into the folders and sealed them in a scroll, the sort that would self destruct if anyone apart from him tried to open it. It wouldn’t do to leave ANBU investigation materials lying around his apartment, no matter how secure his wards were. He stood up and stretched, popping his shoulders, and then turned the light off before padding through to the bathroom. Between brushing his teeth and climbing into bed, he double checked his wards and the locks on his doors and windows, even though locks and walls had long since ceased to make him feel safe. Being ANBU did that to a shinobi.

As he lay beneath the light sheet he slept under now that it was almost summer, Tenzou rolled onto his back and pulled his shirt up just enough to press a finger into the soft flesh of his stomach, and further, into the hard muscles beneath. He stared at the shadows on the ceiling and imagined that his finger was a sword and that he could feel the blood pumping slowly into the sheets below him, seeping down into the mattress, killing him by inches. He felt his pulse flutter in his finger and drew his hand away, shuddering. When he curled onto his side, facing the window because that was another thing being ANBU did to a shinobi, the sheet covering him felt flimsy and insubstantial.

Chuunin and female. He saw their faces in his dreams.


	2. Chapter Two

Iruka wound his way through the hospital buildings, following a path through the different wards that he’d finally managed to memorise. The hospital wasn’t large, but its structure was mazelike, both inside and out, something Kakashi had once tried to convince him had been done on purpose to stop injured shinobi from escaping. Iruka had pointed out that this wasn’t a very effective method of imprisonment then because Kakashi always escaped through the window and over the rooftops anyway.

When he found the research centre – a small building around the back of the complex – he went inside and up the stairs onto a narrow corridor. The office he wanted was at the far end, and when he reached it, he knocked and waited a beat. When there was no response he tried the handle and pushed the door open an inch.

“Kaede-sensei?”

There was no answer, and Iruka paused for another moment before opening the door and stepping inside. The office was small and cluttered, and Iruka had to move a small pile of books from a chair before he sat down, leaving the door ajar behind him. While he waited, he rummaged through his satchel and withdrew a scroll and a notebook that was jammed with loose sheets of paper.

He looked up as the door opened and a woman stepped inside. Kaede was a member of the Nara clan, a short woman in her late thirties who was a medical researcher as well as a gifted surgeon.

“Iruka-sensei,” she greeted without surprise. “I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“No, I only got here myself.”

Kaede sat behind the desk and shifted some of the paperwork aside.

“I’ve made another attempt at the main signs,” Iruka said, flipping through the pages of the notebook and then lying it open on the desk between them. The double page spread showed a number of hand-drawn symbols in the calligraphic script Iruka used for seals, each one drawn over a lightly pencilled pattern of intersecting lines and each labelled in a neat hand: blood, bone, flesh. “That book you lent me really helped, and I found a scroll in the archives with some interesting interpretations.”

The project they were collaborating on was to create a set of first aid seals that could be used by anyone with basic chakra training, even if they had no knowledge of medical jutsu. It was such a simple concept that when the thought had occurred to Iruka, he couldn’t understand why it hadn’t already been done. Medical jutsus were all chuunin level and above due to the level of chakra control required, whereas the whole point of using a seal was that you could, at a basic level, simply pump chakra into the paper and the seal itself would fine tune it into something workable.

The problem with medical seals, as Iruka had discovered when he’d first looked into them, was that the amount of fine tuning required meant that the seals themselves were incredibly complex. The main principle of seal writing was to take the base symbols and combine them in a way that produced the result you were looking for. If you wanted to create a non-static barrier that would move with you, you simply combined _barrier_ and _move_. However, because most of the medical seals were designed to do very specific tasks, the base symbols had ended up so complex that it gave Iruka a headache trying to interpret them. It wasn’t uncommon to find a base symbol that meant _medium-sized-bone-splinter_ or _ruptured-stomach-wall_ , so that trying to find a symbol that simply meant _bone_ or _stomach_ was simply impossible. As far as medics were concerned, there was no point creating a seal that stemmed the flow of blood or lessened pain or set a broken bone because those were the simplest medical jutsu to perform, and the old-fashioned but still prevalent societal assumption was that if a shinobi couldn’t get himself to a medic-nin for treatment, well, he clearly wasn’t strong enough to be worth saving anyway.

Iruka had approached Kaede for help almost three months ago and they were currently working on the first step of the research, which was to analyse hundreds of existing seals in order to try and create a simple set of base symbols. As Kaede was busy with her own research and her on-duty hours, most of the work fell to Iruka, but they met up generally once a week to discuss the project’s progress.

Kaede rummaged through her desk drawer and took out a piece of blank chakra paper cut to the larger size for seals. She pulsed a small amount of chakra through her fingertips and into the paper, just enough to reveal the lines that ran through it in the same pattern as the chakra pathways in the palm of someone’s hand, but not enough that it would activate the seal if she were to ink a design on it. When the pathways stood out in a faint blue, she placed it on the desk and, paying attention to Iruka’s drawings, traced the patterns on the paper. Iruka had pencilled the same chakra pathways onto each symbol, and she noted where this placed it on the seal, which pathways the strokes of his pen had followed or bisected.

“Would you recognise them if you saw them without the labels?” Iruka asked.

“Most of them,” Kaede replied. She put the chakra paper aside and made a small pencil mark next to three of the symbols. “I’m having trouble seeing where these came from, but the rest are elegantly done.”

Iruka smiled briefly at the praise and then passed Kaede the scroll he’d been balancing on his lap. “I managed to check out a forbidden scroll from the archives which has a really helpful key. The rest of it’s rather grim reading, though,” he added as Kaede opened the scroll and started scanning the contents. “The author had no ethics at all. There are seals in there designed to attach the limbs from corpses to amputees, or to perform transplants that need the donor to be alive during the surgery.”

Kaede looked at him sharply. “I didn’t know your clearance level was high enough to access material this highly classified.”

Her tone stung, but Iruka clamped down on his urge to snap back at her. “It took a lot of paperwork,” he admitted.

Kaede looked back at the scroll and opened it wider, glancing over more of the seals until she came across something particularly distressing, judging by her expression. Iruka could sympathise. He’d always thought of medical ninjutsu as something intrinsically good, and seeing an approach that had valued some lives over others had horrified him.

Kaede snapped the scroll shut but seemed reluctant to hand it back, frowning at it in contemplation. “It’s ironic,” she said slowly, “that while trying to do something good, you’ve stumbled across something so awful.”

“Even more ironic that it’s been so helpful,” Iruka agreed. He held out a hand, and Kaede only hesitated for a heartbeat before placing the scroll in it.

“Now,” she said, coming back to the subject at hand as Iruka slid the scroll back into his bag. “Talk me through the three symbols I’ve marked here.”

 

* * *

 

Tenzou loitered at the edge of the cemetery and tried to be as unobtrusive as an ANBU could be while gate crashing a funeral. It had been a week since Hyuuga Eri’s body had been found, and it had been released from the morgue two days ago. The funeral was well-attended, and Tenzou had been surprised by how many Hyuuga clan members had turned up, considering that most of them had shunned Eri while she’d been alive, as much for her rebellious attitude as for her decision to become a tattoo artist rather than try for jounin and build a traditional career as an active shinobi 

The family members he’d talked to about Eri during his investigation had been unhelpful to say the least. Tenzou didn’t know if they were looking into the murder personally, although it was probable that they were. Even a disgraced Hyuuga was a Hyuuga, after all, and it would be a blow to the clan’s pride if they couldn’t bring the perpetrator to justice. Tenzou wondered if they knew any more than he did.

The service came to an end and the coffin was lowered down into the grave. Hiashi glanced over at him again and glared, but Tenzou ignored him. He knew he had no right to intrude on the funeral, but as far as he was concerned he wasn’t intruding. He was simply there to make a note of who had come to pay their last respects and maybe note down a few more names to interview later.

As people started disappearing back towards the village, or milled around to pay their respects to the family, Tenzou noticed a young girl slinking off, unnoticed, from the funeral party. She came towards him a way without seeing him, her hands furiously swiping tears from her face, and then ducked down behind a gravestone and curled up into herself. Tenzou recognised her as Hiashi’s daughter, Hinata.

Well, he hadn’t come here to talk to anyone, but he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to speak to a Hyuuga who actually seemed to care that Eri had died. Out of habit, he approached the girl silently, and she only looked up when he crouched down beside her, startled and wide-eyed.

“It’s Hinata-chan, isn’t it?” he asked, trying for a kindly tone that was spoilt by the way the mask distorted his voice.

Hinata nodded, sniffing and wiping her eyes one final time. Then she took a deep breath and visibly pulled herself together, and Tenzou could see in the way she collected herself faint traces of the famous Hyuuga pride and self-control.

“Can I help you, ANBU-san?”

“I didn’t realise Eri-san was close to any of her family,” Tenzou said. “But you clearly liked her a lot.”

Hinata hugged her knees close to her chest and nodded. “Eri-obasan was a good person. She lived outside the compound so I didn’t see her much, but she was always kind to me.”

“Do you know why your family didn’t like her?”

“Because she didn’t do what she was told,” Hinata said, nervously glancing over her shoulder. “She was the kind of person who didn’t like to follow the rules or let anyone make decisions for her.” There was an admiring undertone to her voice that she was trying to suppress.

“That doesn’t sound so bad to me,” Tenzou commented lightly.

“It caused a lot of arguments,” Hinata said.

“Oh? Did she argue with anyone recently?”

To his surprise, Hinata burst into tears again, hiding her face with her hands as she struggled to bring herself under control. Tenzou fished a packet of tissues out of his vest and handed her one. He carried them with him for moments like this. Hinata was a genin and hadn’t yet learned to keep her emotions in check, but Tenzou had seen even jounin break down and cry sometimes when the stress was just too much.

“It was my fault,” Hinata said shakily when she’d calmed herself enough to speak. “Eri-obasan was just looking out for me. I’d told her that I didn’t really like, um.” She glanced around again, and then lowered her voice. “That I don’t like fighting that much.” She paused, as if waiting for an admonishment. “Eri-obasan said there’s nothing wrong with that, she said she didn’t like fighting either and I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to. She said there’s loads of things shinobi can do that are just as important as fieldwork.”

“That’s very true,” Tenzou agreed, and the rigid line of Hinata’s shoulders relaxed a little. “I imagine your father didn’t like that though.”

“No, he found out and asked her to come talk to him, but she doesn’t like coming to the compound so she wouldn’t. That just made him even angrier, so he went to her shop and they had a big fight about it. I think he told her not to see me anymore.” She let out a shaky breath and Tenzou put a hand on her arm, hoping it was a comforting gesture.

“Do you know if she argued with anyone else recently?” he asked. “Did she have any enemies who might want to hurt her?”

“She argues with everyone,” Hinata said with a small smile of guilty fondness. Tenzou noticed the slip back into present tense. “She always says that respect has to be earned and that no one gets a free pass just because they’re older than her or higher ranked. Some people don’t like that. But I didn’t think anyone hated her enough to hurt her.”

A movement in his peripherals caught Tenzou’s eye and he glanced up to see Hiashi storming over to them. Quickly, he said, “One last question. Did Eri-san ever mention a woman called Fujimoto Akane?”

Hinata wrinkled her brow in concentration. “I don’t think so.”

And then Hiashi was there. “ANBU-san, you have no right to harass my daughter today or any other day. Just what was so important that you had to drag her away from a funeral?”

Hinata stumbled to her feet as Tenzou rose in one fluid movement.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said to Hinata, and then disappeared in a swirl of wind and leaves.

  

* * *

 

Thankfully it was a short walk from the hospital to the Hokage Tower, and so when Iruka slipped into the meeting room, it was only half full. Barely conscious he was doing it, Iruka automatically scanned the room for Kakashi, and, not seeing him among the other jounin-sensei, gravitated towards Izumo and Kotetsu, who were bickering about something towards the front of the room.

This would be the first chuunin exam Iruka had worked on, and although the nominees hadn’t even been chosen yet – something that would have changed by the end of this meeting – he was already feeling overworked by having yet another thing on his schedule. He wished they could have waited a couple of months until the Academy children were on their summer holidays and he had more free time, but the chuunin exams were always scheduled before the next class of pre-genin graduated, in part to help stagger the workload, which, Iruka considered enviously, it probably did for those who never had to work a twelve hour day.

As Iruka approached his friends, he heard Izumo saying, “Then wouldn’t it make more sense to kill off a few genin?”

“Whoa,” Iruka said, the other two glancing up as he stood beside them. “I really hope there’s some context to this conversation that I won’t have to report you for.”

Izumo laughed a little awkwardly, but Kotetsu simply tugged Iruka closer until the three of them were standing in a small huddle.

“We’ve gotta watch our backs, Iruka,” Kotetsu said in a low voice. “I heard that The 3am Killer is picking off chuunin to protest the chuunin exams. Supposedly someone sent a letter to ANBU demanding that they stop the exams or he’d strike again.”

“I heard it was written in blood on the walls at the crime scenes,” Izumo scoffed. “If everyone’s gossiping about something, that usually means it’s not true. Besides, it makes no sense. Why would anyone even _do_ that?”

“How should I know? I don’t understand the workings of an unhinged mind.”

“That’s strange, considering you’ve had one for such a long time.”

“Who’s saying it’s about the chuunin exams?” Iruka interrupted before the arguing could get any more petty.

“Everyone,” Kotetsu said.

“A few days ago everyone was saying it was a missing nin come to take revenge on Konoha, one shinobi at a time,” Iruka pointed out.

“Overexcited gossip,” Kotetsu said dismissively. “I never bought that. There was no _evidence_. But the chuunin exams are a big deal, and not everyone’s happy that it’s taking place in Konoha. Inviting the enemy in and all.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little tasteless to gossip about conspiracy theories when two people are dead?” Iruka asked flatly. Izumo had the grace to look away, but Kotetsu was unabashed.

“It’s not gossip,” he said. “It’s a search for the truth.”

He spent the next five minutes squirming under the force of Iruka’s most scathing look of disappointment, which Iruka kept up even after Sandaime had started speaking and everyone else had fallen silent.

The meeting began with the nominations from the jounin-sensei, starting with the teams with the most recent Academy graduates. Usually, this was just a formality as no one ever nominated a genin team with less than a year’s experience.

So it was a shock to Iruka’s system when Kakashi stepped forward and nominated Team Seven for the exams. A murmur went through the room, which only rose in volume when Asuma and Kurenai each nominated their teams as well.

“Oh shit, those kids are gonna get eaten alive,” Kotetsu muttered through a grin.

Iruka pushed through to the front of the crowd. “Hold on a minute. Hokage-sama, may I speak?”

Sandaime seemed unsurprised to see Iruka speaking out. He gestured for Iruka to continue.

It was Kakashi that Iruka turned to, although in theory he was speaking out against all three jounin-sensei. “You can’t enter children in the exam,” he said, still more shocked than angry, although the bored gaze Kakashi had settled on him was edging the anger closer to the forefront. “They don’t have anywhere near enough experience. What do you think you’re playing at?”

He clearly heard the word _disrespectful_ among the muttering that had broken out in fresh waves behind him, and a part of him knew he should have found a better way to phrase his dissent. He was used to speaking casually with his jounin friends, and especially with Kakashi, and for a moment he’d forgotten that in this formal setting, rank meant something and had to be acknowledged.

“Iruka-sensei –” Asuma started sharply, but Kakashi cut him off.

“You’re underestimating them,” he said. “You should know better than that, Iruka-sensei; it doesn’t take brute force or experience to do well in the chuunin exams. Sometimes it’s the ones who are at a disadvantage who surprise you the most.”

Iruka wasn’t in the mood for cryptic Kakashi bullshit.

“It’s a needless disadvantage,” he snapped. “There’s no reason to rush them into it.”

“I was six years younger than Naruto when I passed the chuunin exam,” Kakashi said. The mention of Naruto’s name sent another shock through Iruka and he realised that Kakashi was also disregarding etiquette and formality. This was a personal argument and neither of them could pretend otherwise. Kakashi still looked unruffled and in control, but he had brought up Naruto first.

“Naruto isn’t like you,” Iruka ground out. “He could get hurt.”

By now, Kakashi looked so bored with the whole conversation that if Iruka hadn’t known him, he would have thought Kakashi simply didn’t give a damn. But Iruka had grown to know Kakashi well since he’d become Naruto’s teacher, and he knew that the more disinterested Kakashi looked, the more he was paying attention. However, the fact that he was taking Iruka seriously didn’t lessen Iruka’s irritation; he didn’t like being studied like a specimen any more than he enjoyed being dismissed.

“It’s really none of your business, Iruka-sensei,” Kakashi said. “After all, he’s not your student anymore. None of them are – they’re my soldiers. And maybe they will get hurt, but it’ll be interesting to see how they handle it.”

Iruka retaliated by not taking the bait. He wasn’t stupid. He knew when someone was testing him, so if Kakashi wanted to know so badly how he’d react then he simply wouldn’t react at all. He hoped his silence would piss Kakashi off.

“That’s enough,” Sandaime said wearily. “I’m going to accept the nominations. Let’s move on.”

Iruka barely heard what was said for the rest of the meeting. He was too distracted by Kakashi’s gaze as it burned through the side of his head.

 

* * *

  

Tenzou was sitting on the couch in Akane’s apartment. He hadn’t been back here since the place had been a crime scene, but today it smelt like tea instead of blood, and when he’d glanced down the hallway as he’d entered, he’d noticed that the bedroom door was firmly shut. 

Himura Daiki, Akane’s boyfriend of three years, brought the tea tray into the lounge with slow, careful movements. Tenzou knew him from when Himura had been in ANBU, which was why he’d laid aside his mask and allowed Himura to offer him a drink.

“You seem to be doing better,” Tenzou commented carefully.

The tea tray rattled as Himura put it down on the coffee table, his brow furrowed with concentration.

“Are you talking about Akane’s death or my eyes?” he asked as he sat down. “Ah, would it be too rude to ask you to pour? Depth perception is still a challenge.”

Six months ago, Himura had been injured on a mission and had lost his sight completely. He’d been discharged from active duty and had been spending his time adjusting to life as a blind man. Fortunately, the medics of Konoha were practically miracle workers, or so Tenzou believed, and had performed a transplant that had given him new eyes and restored his vision. The last few times Tenzou had seen him, in the days following Akane’s and Eri’s murders, he’d been recovering from the operation, his eyes covered in a thick layer of gauze. Now that the dressings had been removed, Tenzou was trying not to stare at the intricate seals that had been inked around his eyes, reaching up over his forehead and down to his cheekbones. He wasn’t staring because he’d never seen a seal tattoo before – he was staring because he knew who’d inked the marks on his face.

“You never mentioned that you knew Hyuuga Eri,” he said as he poured the tea.

“You never asked me if I knew her,” Himura replied. “You asked me if Akane knew her, and as far as I know, they never met. The medic who fixed my eyes took me to see Hyuuga-san so they could discuss the seals first. Akane was working that day.”

Tenzou wasn’t willing to let it go yet. Finally, he’d found a tangible connection between the two women. It was faint and quite possibly no more than a coincidence, but it was all he had.

“What about after you got the tattoo?” he asked. “Fujimoto-san didn’t take you back to the shop for any touch-ups, or go to see Eri-san for any advice or aftercare products?”

Himura blew softly on his tea. His approach to showing emotions was at the other end of the scale from Hinata. He was more subdued than Tenzou remembered, but he held himself with a calm dignity that was in no danger of breaking. Tenzou admired him for it.

“No,” Himura said after a moment. “Akane died two days after I got my new eyes. I had the tattoo done in the morning and the operation in the afternoon. They had to be done close together, and I couldn’t have anything done to the tattoos until I’d healed from the transplant.” He frowned. “I guess if it’s flawed there’s no way to fix it now.”

“There were other tattoo artists working in the shop,” Tenzou pointed out.

“Only Hyuuga-san did seal tattoos,” Himura said. “She was telling me about it that day. It’s like drawing seals on chakra paper – you need to be able to see the pathways and draw the strokes in the right places. Hyuuga-san could only do it because of her bloodline limit.”

Well, at least Tenzou had learnt something new, even if it wasn’t relevant to the case.

“Now, tell me what you came here for, Tenzou,” Himura said. He placed his cup carefully back on the table and turned to give Tenzou a piercing look. Tenzou wondered how clearly Himura could see his face. “You didn’t know about my tattoos until I opened the door. So what did you come here to ask me?”

Tenzou repressed a sigh. He was here on a shred of hope and he was under no illusions that Himura would find his next questions any less desperate than the first round.

“Did Fujimoto-san ever have any contact with the Hyuuga clan more generally? Any disagreements, maybe?”

Himura stared at him for a long moment. Tenzou stared back patiently. He knew he was reaching, but after his talk with Hinata that morning, he had to at least check.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Himura said. “I don’t remember her ever mentioning the Hyuugas specifically.”

“Specifically? What do you mean?”

“Well, Akane had a few disagreements at work. Usually with jounin who wanted to check out some restricted file or scroll and thought they could pull rank to avoid the paperwork. Akane never let them. Sometimes she’d lose her temper and scold them.” Himura chuckled sadly. “She used to come home and rant to me about how stupid they were being, how they were missing the whole point of restricting certain information if they thought she could let just anyone take a look.”

Grief had crept into Himura’s tone. A soft, quiet grief that tinged the edges of his words and reminded Tenzou that no matter how experienced or battle-hardened, even ANBU were still human beneath the mask. He looked away, as though Himura’s humanity were something private.

On the night Akane had been killed, Himura had been staying with his mother, who lived above the shinobi supply shop where she worked. In the aftermath of the surgery, Himura had needed to stay with someone who could check on him regularly and take care of him while he was doped up on painkillers, and Akane couldn’t afford to take the time off work. Himura had still been groggy from sleeping tablets when Tenzou had arrived to give him the news that his girlfriend was dead.

“Was there anyone she particularly argued with in the weeks before she died?” Tenzou asked gently.

Himura leaned back against the sofa and sighed wearily. “God, I don’t know. I don’t remember anything more heated than usual, but I only knew what she told me. Maybe her friends from work could be more helpful.”

“I’ll be sure to ask them,” Tenzou agreed. He drained the last of the tea from his cup and picked up his mask. “I’ll be heading out then. I’m sorry to keep bothering you with questions.”

Himura stood up to show him out. “I don’t mind. Please feel free to come and ask me whatever you like if you think it’ll help you find the monster who did this.”

Only later, when Tenzou was halfway home, did it occur to him that Himura had been blind until after Akane had been sealed in a coffin and buried in the ground. He must have been looking forward to seeing her face again after the surgery, but he hadn’t even been able to say goodbye to her at the funeral. On the other hand, he hadn’t seen the slaughterhouse his bedroom had become, or the lifeless body of his lover. Tenzou couldn’t decide if it was better that way or a tragedy.

  

* * *

 

Iruka returned home that evening to find Kakashi waiting for him outside his front door. To give credit where it was due, the orange paperback disappeared as soon as Kakashi registered his presence.

“I’m still mad at you,” Iruka said.

“That’s why I’m here,” Kakashi replied. “For the record, _I’m_ not mad at _you_.”

He moved aside to let Iruka take down his wards and unlock the door. Iruka grudgingly let him inside. If they were going to argue some more, they might as well do it privately this time.

“You were playing me,” Iruka accused as soon as the door had shut behind them. “You didn’t mean any of that shit, you just wanted to know how far I would go to protect him.”

“I was quite glad you wouldn’t go as far as punching me in the face,” Kakashi said, apparently unconcerned that Iruka had seen through him.

Iruka grabbed the front of Kakashi’s vest. “If you ever intentionally put those kids in danger I really will hurt you, Kakashi-san. I don’t care how much stronger than me you are, I will find a way.”

Kakashi didn’t react to Iruka crowding his space. He hadn’t so much as twitched when Iruka had grabbed him, and it was only the intense, serious look in his eyes that stopped Iruka from feeling patronised by the way Kakashi was _allowing_ himself to be threatened.

“So the fact that you haven’t hurt me must mean that you don’t think I’m intentionally putting them in danger,” Kakashi said.

Iruka loosened his hold. “What?”

“You know I’m not nominating them for the chuunin exam because I want them to get hurt,” Kakashi expanded. “I really believe it’ll be good for them. They probably won’t make chuunin yet, but they’re strong enough for the exams to benefit them rather than harm them. You’re angry because Naruto is precious to you and you worry too much, not because you don’t believe in him, or me.”

Iruka let go of Kakashi’s vest and scowled. “I’m angry because you’re a prick.”

Kakashi chuckled. “Well, there’s that too. I won’t apologise for nominating my team, but I’m sorry for trying to get a rise out of you.”

And just like that, the anger was gone, or at least dulled to a level of irritation that Iruka could ignore if he wanted to.

“Why were you picking a fight anyway?” he asked. “Because a chuunin was questioning your judgement in public?”

Kakashi pulled a face. “What kind of jounin do you think I am? If I cared about my reputation I’d at least choose less racy reading material.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“Maa, Iruka-sensei, there’s no getting anything past you.” Kakashi was grinning under that damn mask, Iruka knew it. “I just like how passionate and outspoken you are when you’re angry.”

Iruka rubbed a hand over his eyes. “You’re like a child.”

“Coming from a teacher, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Iruka snorted. “Clearly you don’t understand teachers.”

Kakashi only grinned wider if Iruka could read those masked expressions as well as he suspected he could. “Friends?”

“Friends,” Iruka agreed, trying not to smile. “Now get out of my damn house.”

 

* * *

 

After an evening of grading papers, Iruka had meant to get an early night. Instead, he found himself sitting in bed working on the medical seals. He’d never had such a challenging project and it frustrated him as much as it fascinated him. Iruka was acutely aware that if he managed to create a set of simple base symbols for use in medical seals, it could drastically diminish the number of shinobi casualties in the field. He’d heard too many stories of shinobi dying because they were injured on a solo mission, or with teams too inexperienced or hurt to get them to a hospital in time 

He was also aware that if he pulled this off, he’d be revolutionising the field of medicine. Sandaime had keenly supported the project but had given it an S class restricted classification. This meant that not only did someone need to have S rank clearance, but they also needed to be on a list of approved names who had express permission from the hokage to know about it. While Iruka was disappointed that he couldn’t talk to Naruto or Kakashi about his project, he understood the risk of someone trying to steal his work, attracted by the prospect of wealth and fame or to sell it to an enemy village.

Iruka wasn’t interested in wealth or fame. He was interested in seals and the theory behind them. Most people who didn’t know much about seals dismissed them as a shortcut for those who weren’t skilled at using jutsus, and even Iruka taught his students that seals were basically jutsus in paper form. But that was something he said so the kids would understand, more or less, what he was talking about. The theory behind the two was similar: directing chakra through specific pathways using written symbols or hand signs in order to shape energy into a physical form or effect. At a basic level, seals and jutsus could be used interchangeably, but as a shinobi developed more advanced chakra control, it would become apparent that both methods had their own advantages and disadvantages. The main argument for using a justu, for example, was that it allowed the user more direct control because they were using their own chakra pathways, whereas one of the reasons for choosing a seal was that its strength could be dictated by the placement of the symbols on the paper rather than the amount of chakra, allowing a shinobi to use the minimum of chakra for maximum effect.

Iruka had taught himself seals from books of theory as a teenager, and had bullied his jounin-sensei into teaching him exercises to hone his chakra control, an essential skill for even an intermediate seal user. He was embarrassed to admit, these days, that his motivation had mostly been to improve the standard of the traps he set around the Hokage Tower. It was possible to prime a seal with chakra in advance and then activate it later with a hand sign or a chakra flare. Some of his best practical jokes had relied on that trick.

A scroll fell off Iruka’s bed and unravelled across the floor. He sighed and made the hand signs that would roll it back up without having to touch it. Forget bloodline limits or flashy elemental jutsus – as far as Iruka was concerned, the paperwork jutsus, as they were affectionately known in the Mission Room, were the saving grace of mankind.

It was time to call it a night. Iruka had given up half an hour ago on perfecting the three symbols that Kaede had found issues with and had instead been playing around with concepts for a tourniquet seal. If he’d succeeded with his attempt at a _blood_ symbol, it should be a simple matter of combining it with the already existing _stop_ symbol, perhaps with a light touch of _force_ to put pressure on the wound...

Iruka sighed again and leaned off the bed to scoop up the fallen scroll. He needed to go to sleep or he’d be up all night fiddling with a seal he couldn’t even test without Kaede present. He sealed everything into a scroll and slipped it into the pillowcase on the side of the bed he didn’t sleep on. Probably not the best hiding place in the world, but Sandaime had impressed on him the importance of keeping his research secure, and it wasn’t like Iruka had time to invite anyone into his bedroom these days. The chakra paper, pen and pencil went into the drawer in his bedside table. He was too tired to put them away properly. He’d sort it out in the morning.

The wards were already set and the house locked up, so Iruka simply turned out the lamp and fell asleep.

 

 

Iruka’s dreams were strange that night. He dreamt that he was conscious of sleeping, aware of the warmth of his duvet and the softness of the sheets beneath his skin. Somewhere, there was the rustling of paper and the quiet noise of breathing, probably his own. The duvet slid away with the whisper of cotton on skin, and Iruka rolled onto his back and reached one arm above his head to press against the bedpost. Something cold wound around his wrist and then around his ankles, but the pressure didn’t concern him. There were no thoughts in his head, only a hazy contentedness within the cocoon of a deep, wonderful sleep 

He woke when the sword pierced through his stomach and ripped out of his back. The cry he made was quiet and somehow breathless as though all the air had been knocked from his lungs. The sword withdrew with another burst of pain and Iruka tried to sit up, but one of his wrists was bound tightly to the bed. He struggled, and realised distantly that his ankles were also tied together. He lashed out with his free hand but someone grabbed his arm and pinned it to the bed, and that’s when Iruka realised he was going to die.

Iruka’s enhanced senses had carried over from the dream. His shinobi training was overriding his panic, but it couldn’t block out the focal points that were all he could concentrate on. The rush of blood pooling on his stomach and spilling in droplets over his hips. He could feel with incredibly clarity the trail one left as it followed the line of his pelvis. The rasp of his own breaths, too fast, gasping through parted lips with a sound that was somehow wet. And above him the dark shadow of his killer, and as Iruka’s sight narrowed to tunnel vision, all he could see was a pale face hovering over him like a moon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normal person's reaction to Naruto: oh my God, these magic ninjas are so cool! I wish they were real so I could be a magic ninja!  
> My reaction to Naruto: oh my God, I bet the theory behind these ninjas' magic would be fascinating. I wish it was real so I could study it!  
> And thus this chapter was born.


	3. Chapter Three

Naruto took a tentative swig of milk straight from the bottle and then spat it explosively into the sink. He turned the tap on and stuck his tongue under the flow of water, rubbing furiously to try and wash out the taste.

When he’d wiped the splashes of water off his face, he turned back to the bowl of dry cereal and made a face. It was getting stale anyway. He dumped the cereal back into the box, decided to leave the pieces now scattered on the table to deal with later, and opened a cupboard to find the bread. It was only when he saw the empty space where the loaf should be that he remembered he’d finished the bread yesterday and had forgotten to buy a new loaf.

“So much for breakfast,” he muttered. “But it’s fine – I can train on an empty stomach. No sweat.”

The silence was broken by a loud grumble from Naruto’s stomach, complete with a stab of hunger pains. Naruto groaned and opened the cupboard again, in case by some miracle he had something else suitable for breakfast. Mostly there were snacks and packets of instant ramen. Naruto frowned at the meagre offerings of his kitchen. He’d happily eat ramen for breakfast, but if Iruka-sensei found out, he’d get scolded.

Iruka-sensei – now that was a thought. Naruto’s face brightened and he pulled on a pair of shoes. Iruka-sensei would feed him, and then maybe later he could go shopping and they could cook a meal together. Humming to himself, Naruto tied his hitae-ate around his forehead and scooped up his keys before leaving the apartment.

It was almost seven and the streets outside were fairly empty. Kakashi had scheduled training for half seven, which meant Naruto could probably spend a whole hour at Iruka’s place and still make it to the meeting point before Kakashi showed up. Iruka might not even be awake yet. Naruto paused, considering whether he dared wake Iruka, but then remembered the second key on his key ring. Iruka had also added his chakra signature to the wards, so if he knocked and no one answered he could let himself in. How delighted would Iruka-sensei be if he woke up to find that Naruto had made him breakfast. Naruto grinned at the thought and picked up his pace.

When Naruto reached Iruka’s apartment ten minutes later, the wards were already down. The buzz of chakra that usually hung lightly over the doorknob was absent, and when Naruto knocked no one answered. He knocked again, louder, and waited. Iruka usually kept his wards up even when he was at home, and it was unthinkable that he’d leave them down while he wasn’t there.

Naruto fumbled his keys out of his pocket and slipped the larger one into the keyhole. He tried to turn it, but it only moved a centimetre and then stopped and wouldn’t budge. Naruto took the key out and then tried again. It took him several minutes to realise that the key wouldn’t turn because the lock was already open.

Now this was just downright weird. Naruto pushed the door open and stepped inside. The apartment was quiet and still. A cold prickle of unease tightened Naruto’s stomach.

“Iruka-sensei?”

There was no answer from inside.

“Iruka-sensei, your door was unlocked.”

Naruto left the front door open and stepped further into the hallway. Without thinking about it, he’d lightened his steps and his hand lingered near the pocket where he kept his kunai.

There was no one in the open plan lounge and kitchen area and no one in the bathroom or the spare bedroom where Naruto sometimes stayed. Iruka’s bedroom door was shut.

Naruto slipped his hand into his pocket and wrapped it around the cold steel of the knife. Then he opened the door.

  


* * *

  


Kakashi was on his way to the training ground to meet his team. He’d got bored of waiting for them to notice the pattern in his lateness and had decided, as punishment, that today he was going to turn up a mere five minutes late and then apologise wholeheartedly for making them wait. That ought to infuriate them. He could already picture the expressions on their faces.

He was two streets away from Iruka’s apartment when he felt the explosion of chakra. It was a huge flare, blasting from somewhere close by, and spine-chillingly familiar. He had felt that chakra twice before: once on Team Seven’s mission to the Land of the Waves and once on the night the demon fox had attacked the village twelve years ago.

There were people at their doors and alarmed faces peering out of the windows at the block of flats where the chakra was coming from. Kakashi recognised it as Iruka’s building, and knew instantly where Naruto must be. He didn’t bother with the stairs, using chakra to take a shortcut up the side of the building and leaping over the wall on the third floor to bring himself to Iruka’s open front door.

This close, he could feel the demon fox’s chakra sizzling against his skin like an electric current, raising the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck. Against every instinct, he entered the apartment slowly and cautiously, deciding against reaching for a weapon – Kakashi’s hands were weapons enough. The smell of blood came through his mask at the same time he noticed the figure in Iruka’s bedroom doorway.

Naruto’s shoulders were hunched and he was making a low keening noise like an animal in pain. His fingers were clutching at the doorframe tightly enough that the blood had drained from his skin. As Kakashi approached, his head whipped round to reveal wide, inhuman eyes, and he snarled.

“Naruto, it’s me,” Kakashi said, keeping his voice calm and level. “What’s wrong? Where’s Iruka?”

Naruto threw back his head and _screamed_.

And Kakashi was done being cautious. He’d only seen this loss of self in Naruto once before, and that had been when he’d thought Sasuke was dead. Kakashi lunged forwards and caught a glimpse of what lay beyond Iruka’s bedroom doorway: the blood, the dull glint of chakra wire, the motionless body on the sheets.

Naruto was on him as soon as he tried to get into the room, catching him around the waist and almost knocking him to the ground, snarling furiously. Kakashi tried to pry him off, but Naruto’s arms had locked in a death grip around him, and he was holding Kakashi back from the bedroom with a show of strength Kakashi had never witnessed in him before. It shouldn’t have mattered – Iruka was dead, there was no helping him even if Kakashi reached him – but even though Kakashi knew the reality, there was still a terrible hope that if he could just reach Iruka it might not be too late.

Behind him, two pairs of footsteps raced into the apartment.

“Senpai, what’s happening?”

That was Tenzou’s voice. ANBU had arrived. Kakashi motioned at the bedroom door somewhat desperately.

“In there. Iruka – Iruka’s hurt.” He couldn’t bring himself to say ‘dead’.

A masked figure slipped past them into the bedroom. Naruto snatched his hands back from Kakashi and tried to lunge at Tenzou, but Kakashi grabbed him and yanked him back, trying to restrain the writhing, howling boy without hurting him. The second ANBU didn’t interfere but remained close, tensed to intervene if Naruto broke free.

Kakashi tried to concentrate on Naruto and not think about the body lying in the next room, but already the thoughts were flooding in: I was here last night and I left him alone. I should have stayed, should have sensed the danger, should have stopped this from happening...

“He’s alive.”

Kakashi’s head shot up. Tenzou was standing in the doorway. He was looking at the other ANBU, still speaking.

“Go to the hospital, tell the medics we have a victim who’s been impaled through the abdomen and has lost a lot of blood. There’s unknown internal damage so I don’t want to risk moving him without some preliminary treatment here. Pulse is slow but regular. This is priority – we need a team here _now_.”

“He’s alive?” Kakashi asked before Tenzou had even finished speaking. He gripped Naruto hard enough that the boy hissed in pain.

Tenzou looked him in the eye. “Iruka-sensei is alive,” he repeated. “But Kakashi, it’s bad. He might not make it.”

Kakashi wasn’t listening. He was focused on the squirming child in his arms. “Naruto, listen. Iruka-sensei is still alive. Do you understand? He’s _alive_.”

The fox’s chakra dimmed and Naruto stopped struggling. Kakashi warily let go of him and turned him around so he could see Naruto’s face. His eyes were back to normal, pupils no longer slitted, and he looked confused and lost.

“Iruka-sensei is alive,” Kakashi said again, as much for his own benefit as Naruto’s.

For a moment he thought Naruto was going to collapse, but then he whirled around, breaking free of Kakashi’s loose grip on his shoulders, and racing through the bedroom doorway. Tenzou caught his arm, but Kakashi shook his head sharply and Tenzou let him go.

“Don’t touch him,” Tenzou said as Naruto approached the bed.

Kakashi followed him into the room. Naruto was trembling by Iruka’s side. He reached for the chakra wire binding Iruka’s hand, but paused, not daring to touch after Tenzou’s warning. Kakashi drew a kunai and cut the wire around Iruka’s ankles, then handed it to Naruto and gestured towards Iruka’s wrist. Naruto’s hand shook as he cut it free.

Iruka’s normally dark skin was sickly pale. His hair was loose and spread messily across the pillow. Naruto brushed some of it off Iruka’s face and Iruka’s eyelashes didn’t even flicker at the contact. Only one of his hands had been tied to the bed – his headboard was solid and the other bedpost was too far away, leaving nothing to tie it to. There were cuts around his wrist and ankles where he’d struggled against his bonds, and bruises were already beginning to form there. His free hand was covered in dried blood and there were red handprints on the sheets and headboard. Kakashi tried not to look at them.

The centre of the whole gory tableau was Iruka’s abdomen, which was still wet with blood, the shirt pulled up to his chest to reveal the extent of the damage. But that wasn’t what drew Kakashi’s attention. There was a seal covering the wound, the symbols on it drawn clumsily in blood. It looked fairly simplistic, but Kakashi couldn’t decipher it. Tenzou was standing at the foot of the bed, and he was staring at the seal as well.

“What is that?” Kakashi asked. “Is it helping him or harming him?”

“There weren’t any seals on the other two bodies,” Tenzou replied.

Before he could continue, the other ANBU arrived back with two medics in tow. The room was getting crowded, so Kakashi took Naruto gently by the arm and led him back into the living room. He’d expected some resistance but Naruto followed him easily, almost meekly.

Kakashi sank down on the couch, suddenly exhausted. Naruto sat next to him, perching on the edge of the cushions, his head lowered.

“Is Iruka-sensei going to be all right?”

“I don’t know,” Kakashi answered honestly. “But he’s strong and the medics will do their best.”

There was a pause and Naruto sniffled quietly.

“Why would anyone want to hurt Iruka-sensei? He never does anything bad. He’s always helping and protecting people. I wish – I wish I’d been here last night so I could’ve protected him.”

Kakashi had wondered when the tears were going to burst free. Naruto tried to keep talking, but he was crying too hard, noisy sobs that wracked his whole body. Kakashi reached out and wrapped an arm around him and gently pulled him closer, and then Naruto was sobbing onto his shoulder and clutching at his vest. Dealing with crying children wasn’t a skill that Kakashi was adept at, but he’d seen Iruka run his fingers through Naruto’s hair when he was upset, and he mimicked the gesture now, hoping Naruto could find some shred of comfort in it.

  


* * *

  


An hour later, Tenzou stood alone in Iruka’s bedroom. After a blood transfusion and an examination of the wound, the medics had moved Iruka to the hospital to be treated, and Kakashi and Naruto had followed them. Since Iruka would be in surgery for some time, Tenzou had decided to stay behind and start examining the crime scene.

The seals on the walls were the same as at the last two murders, but the chakra repressing seals had been overloaded and destroyed by the sheer power of the demon fox’s chakra. The chakra pathways in the paper had actually ruptured, which was something Tenzou had never seen before. It was as impressive as it was frightening.

Like the other murders, there was no sign of a struggle, but the drawer to the bedside table was hanging open and a couple of pieces of chakra paper were lying on the floor beside it. One of them had the beginnings of a seal drawn on it, but a smudge of blood had messed it up before it could be completed. It looked like the seal that had been on Iruka’s stomach. Tenzou couldn’t be sure, but he was willing to bet that the seal on Iruka’s wound had been his own doing, and that’s what had saved his life. One of his hands hadn’t been secured, so he could have reached into the drawer, taken a piece of chakra paper and drawn and activated the seal. Tenzou had never heard of a seal that stopped blood loss, but he wasn’t exactly the expert that Iruka was.

If that was the case, then leaving one of Iruka’s hands unsecured was a serious mistake on 3am’s part. Akane and Eri had both been completely incapacitated, but the design of Akane’s headboard and Eri’s single bed had allowed for both hands to be tied whereas Iruka’s didn’t. The killer must have reasoned that even with one hand secured, Iruka wouldn’t be able to untie the tight knots before he bled to death, and since chakra wire prevented chakra flow along the pathways, Iruka would have been unable to perform jutsu even if he could make the hand signs. It was pure luck that Iruka had within arm’s reach of the materials he needed to at least slow down his rate of blood loss.

Unfortunately, this took his list of commonalities among the victims down from two to one. Iruka wasn’t female, but he was a chuunin. But that wasn’t enough to be the full picture even if it wasn’t a coincidence. Tenzou pulled a small notebook from the pouch strapped to his waist and flipped through the notes he’d taken on the case. Hopefully Iruka would survive and regain consciousness soon, and then Tenzou could talk to him. The best case scenario would be that Iruka could tell him exactly who had tried to kill him, but it wouldn’t do to place his bets on that. A skilled assassin would cover all bases, including the possibility of being seen entering or leaving the scene, and so he may have had the foresight to use a henge or genjutsu to conceal his identity.

It said something about 3am that he chose to leave his victims alive but dying. Did he get a kick out of them lying there, bound and helpless, knowing what was happening to them? Or did he have a personal connection to the victims, so that he couldn’t bring himself to watch them die?

Tenzou paused at a page of the notebook. It was the final page of notes from his interview with Hinata. At the bottom he’d written _E had big possibly public argument with Hyuuga Hiashi shortly before death. Any arguments between H clan and A?_

Akane had also argued a lot with jounin while on the job, and although Tenzou hadn’t been at the chuunin exams meeting the day before, he’d heard about Iruka’s confrontation with Kakashi. Tenzou lowered the notebook. All the victims were chuunin with a reputation for refusing to respect authority blindly, and at least two had had public arguments with jounin shortly before their deaths. Tenzou hadn’t yet had chance to ask Akane’s colleagues about whether she’d had any particularly heated disagreements recently, but from what Himura had said, there was a good chance she had. And the jounin that Iruka and Eri had spoken back to had features in common as well: Hiashi and Kakashi were both well-known, elite jounin and clan leaders. Even though Kakashi was the last member of his clan and didn’t consider himself a clan leader, he still officially held the position.

Was this the connection Tenzou had been searching for? Was it possible that a rogue jounin had decided to punish disrespectful chuunin? The thought was sickening, but Tenzou knew there were jounin who expected lower ranks to defer to them and became unpleasant when this wasn’t the case.

Tenzou glanced one more time around the apartment and decided that there was nothing more to be gained from staying. He desperately wanted to talk to Kakashi, but telling Kakashi that he might be the reason why Iruka had been targeted wasn’t a subject he wanted to broach while Iruka was still in surgery. That conversation could wait for a less delicate time. Before then, he needed to report to the hokage and he could talk to Akane’s colleagues in the archives while he was in the Hokage Tower.

  


* * *

  


Iruka was in the operating theatre for almost three hours. Kakashi waited outside on an uncomfortable chair that was bolted to the ground. Naruto sat next to him. At first he’d huddled into Kakashi’s side and cried intermittently – not the noisy sobbing of the dam first breaking, but a quiet tearfulness that stuttered his breathing and trembled his shoulders. After the first couple of hours he’d made a concentrated effort to pull himself together, even though Kakashi had made no complaints, and was sitting upright with a dry but tearstained face. He was still close enough that their arms were pressed together, and Kakashi felt strangely glad that Naruto was finding comfort in his presence. There was nothing he could do to help Iruka, but he could at least look after Naruto. It made him feel less useless.

When they finally wheeled Iruka out of the theatre, they took him not to the ward, as Kakashi had expected, but into a private room. The ANBU who’d arrived on the scene with Tenzou – a woman in a highly stylised bird mask who Kakashi didn’t know – had hung around outside the operating theatre with them, and now placed herself outside the room. Kakashi would be willing to bet that there was at least one more ANBU outside keeping watch on the hospital and paying special attention to Iruka’s window.

Once Iruka was settled, the medic who’d been in charge of treating Iruka tried to take Kakashi aside to have a word, but Naruto started to get agitated and Kakashi insisted that Iruka would want them both to hear whatever she had to say. The news was good on the whole. The internal damage hadn’t been as bad as it could have been, and they’d managed to stop the bleeding and pump enough blood back into Iruka’s system. In all likelihood, Iruka was going to recover with no lasting effects, but there was still a small chance of internal bleeding or infection, so he’d have to stay in the hospital for at least a few days. The two seals they’d taken from Iruka’s body – as well as the one on his stomach, they’d found one covering the exit wound on Iruka’s back – were still a mystery, but there was a research medic who specialised in seals and they were going to ask her opinion when she started her shift that afternoon. For now all they could say was that the seals seemed to have considerably slowed the blood flow.

It took another hour for Iruka to regain consciousness. Kakashi was stretching his legs by pacing around the small space, unwilling to leave the room. Naruto had dragged his chair so close to the bed that his knees bumped the mattress and had been holding Iruka’s hand loosely. Kakashi had seen him stroking the back of it with his thumb in a way that Iruka must have done to soothe him in the past. Now, Naruto made a startled noise.

“Kakashi-sensei, he’s waking up!”

Kakashi was instantly at Iruka’s other side, watching his face closely. Iruka’s eyelids fluttered a little before he cracked them open. 

“Iruka-sensei,” Naruto started, but abandoned the rest of his sentence.

Iruka turned his head towards him sluggishly.

“Naruto?”

His voice was raspy and in a minute Kakashi would go and ask a nurse for some water, but not right now.

Naruto was crying again and trying desperately not to. He looked like he wanted to fling himself on Iruka and hug him, but he restrained himself enough to simply squeeze Iruka’s hand.

“You’re in the hospital,” Kakashi said. Iruka’s head turned to look at him. It took his eyes a moment to focus. “You were attacked by The 3am Killer, but the doctor told me you should make a full recovery. You’re safe now.”

Iruka’s eyes widened slightly. “I remember. I need – ah!”

He clutched at his stomach, teeth gritting in pain, and Naruto shot out of his chair in alarm.

“Iruka-sensei?”

Kakashi darted towards the door. “I’ll get a nurse.”

The nurse administered a painkiller jutsu rather than medication. It took him a few attempts to get the strength right, and Kakashi watched, half fascinated and half fretting that every second the nurse took adjusting the level was another second of watching Iruka screw up his face in agony.

“You’d need quite strong drugs, and since your stomach was damaged I don’t want to give you anything that’s going to make you throw up,” the nurse explained when he’d finally managed to dull Iruka’s pain enough for Iruka to become aware of his death grip on Naruto’s hand and apologise profusely.

Sandaime appeared in the doorway as the nurse was adjusting Iruka’s bed so that the top part of his body was raised enough to properly look at his visitors. The hokage was looking as grim as Kakashi had ever seen him, his mouth set in a firm line, his ever-present pipe nowhere in sight.

“How are you feeling?”

“Grateful to be alive,” Iruka answered honestly. Naruto sniffed beside him and Iruka rubbed his thumb over the back of Naruto’s hand.

Sandaime nodded. “You’ll be safe here. I’ve posted an ANBU guard outside your door and –”

“No!”

The outburst was so emphatic that Naruto flew to his feet again. Iruka had tried to lean forward and winced, and Kakashi pushed him gently back against the pillow.

“Sandaime-sama, the man who attacked me was ANBU.”

“That’s impossible.” The words flew out of Kakashi’s mouth before he could think about them.

Iruka didn’t even look at him. His eyes were fixed desperately on Sandaime, whose face betrayed his own shock.

“Which mask?” he asked.

Iruka chewed on his lip for a moment. “It was blank,” he said.

“No ANBU wears a blank mask,” Kakashi said. Sandaime shot him a warning look. It wouldn’t take a genius to guess that Kakashi had once been in ANBU, but even ex operatives weren’t allowed to reveal their past membership to anyone who wasn’t currently serving in ANBU.

Iruka turned to him, visibly distressed that Kakashi was doubting him, and Kakashi suddenly wished he hadn’t said anything. He was being a prick. If he had doubts, he could voice them privately with the hokage; there was no need to tell Iruka outright that he didn’t believe him, especially since it was less that he disbelieved Iruka and more that he didn’t want to believe him.

“He was wearing the ANBU uniform,” Iruka insisted.

“Did he have the tattoo?” Sandaime asked.

Iruka hesitated again. “I don’t know. I don’t remember seeing it. Everything happened so suddenly.”

“An ANBU could have stolen an unpainted mask,” Kakashi said, to redeem himself. The relief on Iruka’s face only made him feel guiltier.

“You’re sure it was a man?” Sandaime asked. Iruka nodded. “Your current guard is female. I’ll make sure no male operatives are assigned to protect you for the time being.” He reached into his robe and half withdrew his pipe before remembering that they were in a hospital and replacing it regretfully. “I’m sorry to have to ask you this now, but I need a full report.”

“I don’t mind,” Iruka said softly. “But I think Naruto should wait outside.”

Naruto hunched his shoulders and glared at Sandaime as though he’d been the one to suggest he leave. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Naruto,” Iruka started, but Naruto overrode him.

“I’m not leaving your side until they catch the person who hurt you. I wasn’t there to protect you last night so I’m going to make up for it and protect you now. Besides, I was the one who found you.” Iruka made a distressed noise, but Naruto kept talking. “So I saw all that – all that blood, and I thought you were dead, and nothing you say can be worse than that. _Nothing_.”

Iruka reached out and pulled Naruto onto the bed. He perched on the edge of the mattress, as though Iruka were too fragile to risk touching, but Iruka tugged him closer and wrapped his arm around Naruto’s shoulders, pressing a kiss to his temple.

Kakashi looked away and saw Sandaime respectfully doing the same. This was a family moment. Somehow, it touched Kakashi to see them together as much as it hurt him to see them in pain.

“All right,” Iruka whispered. “All right, you can stay here.”

Naruto had finally relaxed against Iruka’s side and he stayed nestled there as Iruka started talking.

“I didn’t notice anything strange yesterday evening. I set my wards and locked up the house like usual. It was around midnight when I went to bed, and the next thing I remember is waking up when he stabbed me.”

Sandaime frowned. “He stabbed you before tying you up?”

“No.” Iruka rubbed a hand over his eyes. “No, he’d already set seals around the room and tied me to the bed, but I don’t remember that happening.” He paused, furrowing his brow, thinking hard about something. Sandaime waited patiently. “Actually, that’s not true,” Iruka said slowly. “I remember being aware that someone was in my room. I felt him tying my wrist to the bed, but it was so...distant. I thought I was sleeping. Everything felt warm and safe and not worth thinking about too deeply.”

Sandaime and Kakashi exchanged a look.

“Genjutsu,” Kakashi said.

“Can you perform a genjutsu on a sleeping person?” Sandaime asked.

“I couldn’t, but it might depend on which sense you’re targeting.” Genjutsu worked by a sort of hypnosis, capturing the full attention of one of the victim’s senses and thereby ensnaring them in a trance where they became susceptible to illusions. Most genjutsu users worked on the sense of sight, which was how Kakashi’s sharingan functioned, but sound was also common, and touch wasn’t unheard of. “And it’s perfectly possible to wake someone up and catch them in a genjutsu before they even realise they’re awake. Even the most highly trained shinobi is vulnerable in the moment of waking up.”

Sandaime turned back to Iruka. “Do you remember seeing or hearing anything that might have been a genjutsu trigger?” Iruka thought about it for a moment and then shook his head. “Well, never mind. Please continue.”

“I tried to fight back,” Iruka said, “but there was nothing I could do. One of my arms was free, but he grabbed it and held it down. He just stood there like that, watching me, until I stopped struggling. I asked him who he was and why he was attacking me, but he wouldn’t answer. Then he turned around and left the room, and I heard him go out the front door.”

That detail seemed to disturb Iruka, that the man who’d tried to kill him had walked calmly and confidently out of the front door, politely shutting it behind him. There was a kind of genius to it – anyone who’d seen an ANBU leaving through the front door wouldn’t have suspected anything, and would probably have forgotten within the hour that they’d seen anything at all.

“The seals we found on your wounds, were they yours?” Sandaime asked.

Iruka paused and glanced, for some reason, at Kakashi.

“Yes, Sandaime-sama,” he said. Kakashi expected him to continue, but Iruka only looked at Sandaime, as if waiting for permission to speak further.

“I’ll speak to you about those privately,” Sandaime said.

Kakashi looked between them. Something unspoken was clearly being communicated about those seals, but for whatever reason they didn’t want to – or couldn’t – discuss it in front of him and Naruto. Kakashi dearly wanted to ask, but held his tongue.

Naruto, however, didn’t know any better. “What seals? What’s he talking about, Iruka-sensei?”

Iruka carded his fingers through Naruto’s hair. “I used a couple of seals to survive. But if you hadn’t shown up and found me, they wouldn’t have been enough. So really I have you to thank for saving my life.”

Naruto sat up straight, eyes wide. “Really? I helped?”

“You helped a lot,” Kakashi said. “It was your chakra flare that brought me and the ANBU running.”

Iruka smiled at him, and Kakashi found it endlessly reassuring that he could still smile so easily. Beside him, Naruto was trembling with pride and relief, a far cry from the boy who’d spent the morning weeping on Kakashi’s shoulder.

Sandaime rose to leave. “Kakashi, a word outside, please.”

Before Kakashi left, he put his hand over Iruka’s wrist and squeezed lightly. Iruka moved so that their fingers briefly tangled together before Kakashi gently pulled away and followed Sandaime out of the room. The warmth of Iruka’s skin tingled on his fingers.

In the corridor, the ANBU on guard shut the door behind them. There was no one else in earshot, but Sandaime spoke in a low voice.

“Kakashi, I’m grateful for everything you’ve done to look after Naruto this morning, but as of now all current or former ANBU who fit the profile Iruka described are not permitted any contact with him. I’m afraid you won’t be able to visit him again for the time being.”

Kakashi stared at him. “Exactly what ‘profile’ do I fit?”

“An unfortunately broad one,” Sandaime sighed. “A male genjutsu user. I also need to take into account the fact that the two of you had a heated exchange yesterday at the chuunin exams meeting –”

“Sandaime-sama, I –”

“– and you were the first jounin on the scene this morning when Iruka was found.”

Kakashi understood, distantly, that if the same facts applied to someone else, he wouldn’t let them in the same building as Iruka right now, but logic didn’t help to lessen his rage. “Sandaime-sama, do you really believe I would hurt Iruka-sensei?”

Sandaime looked tired but his voice was unwavering. “Before today, I wouldn’t have believed any member of ANBU would murder innocent people. But since that appears to be the case, I can’t make exceptions. You are not to make contact with Iruka until I tell you otherwise. That’s an order, Kakashi.”

“Understood,” Kakashi said stiffly. Then he brought his hands together and made the signs that would transport him out of the hospital before he said anything else that he might later regret.

  


* * *

  


Tenzou was sitting in a small office in the archives, in theory speaking to a young blond man who looked barely out of his teens, but with regular interjections from the two women who were pretending to work at the other office desks but were mostly eavesdropping. Tenzou didn’t mind. It saved him from talking to them all individually.

“Akane-senpai was in charge of the restricted knowledge section,” the young man said. “She helped out in the other areas too, though.”

“We’re all assigned specific areas, but that’s just for official documentation,” one of the women piped up. “We tend to work in all areas and help each other out. Most of us have clearance for filing and retrieving items in restricted knowledge.”

“What exactly is stored in that section?” Tenzou asked.

“Scrolls and books with information on forbidden seals and jutsus, S class and S class restricted mission reports and personnel files – except ANBU documentation, that’s all kept in the ANBU records room – and certain documents that come over from the hokage’s office. Minutes from council meetings, that sort of thing.”

“I assume that’s the section that causes you the most trouble,” Tenzou said. “Difficult customers, lots of paperwork...”

The archives workers exchanged a look.

“It’s the jounin,” the young man said. “Not all of them,” he added hastily, “but the ones who make a scene are almost always jounin. The rules for retrieving restricted items are very strict. You need a permission slip signed by the hokage or a council member, and you also need to fill out a non-disclosure form, and that’s all after you submit a request form to the hokage’s office. It’s a lot of hassle and it takes a lot of time, and any mistakes invalidate the documents.”

“Some of the jounin try to pull rank to avoid the system,” the other woman said irritably. “It’s so irresponsible. Some of them get really difficult, as though if they yell at us enough we might be willing to compromise village security just to save them a bit of paperwork.” She curled her lip in disgust. “We always send Akane-chan to deal with those ones. She gives as good as she gets.”

“Do you remember if Fujimoto-san had any particularly heated disagreements in the last couple of weeks before her death?”

Another shared look, but this time of contemplation.

“I don’t remember anything worse than normal,” the man said doubtfully. “I mean, there were definitely a few arguments, but I’m not sure that any of them were unusual.”

“Can you remember the names of anyone Fujimoto-san argued with in that last fortnight?”

“Well, yes.” The man looked nervously at his older colleagues, both of whom had turned back to their work. So they were happy to bitch about jounin in general, but were less willing to give specific names.

Tenzou flipped to a clean page in his notebook and put it on the desk in front of the young chuunin. “Why don’t you just write down any names you can remember? You two as well,” he added to the women. “Then if anyone asks, I honestly won’t be able to say who told me.”

Five minutes later, Tenzou left the archives and found a quiet corner where he could read the list of names. There were only five, but one of them in particular stood out. _Hyuuga Hiashi_.

Interesting. So Hiashi had argued with two of the victims shortly before their deaths. If the Hyuuga clan was involved, this was going to get complicated fast, but Tenzou wasn’t concerned with politics. He’d been given a job, and nowhere in the ANBU mission statement did it say to make exceptions for those in positions of power. If the Hyuugas had a hand in this, Tenzou wouldn’t hesitate to bring them down.

All he needed now was to speak to Iruka. If he could find a connection between Iruka and the Hyuuga clan, it would be the final link he needed to be sure that he was on the right track.


	4. Chapter Four

Iruka was woken by the sound of the door closing. At first he thought it might be Kakashi coming back – he’d left with Sandaime a little while ago and never returned – but when he looked up groggily towards the doorway he registered the deep auburn of Kaede’s hair.

“Iruka-sensei,” she said, and as Iruka’s vision focused he could make out the shocked expression on her face. “I just got in and heard about what happened.”

She picked up the notes at the bottom of his bed and scanned through them rapidly. Beside Iruka, Naruto was still curled up on the bed. He’d also fallen asleep and Kaede’s entrance hadn’t woken him.

“Have you seen the seals?” he asked.

“Yes, they were sent to my office. I recognised your base symbol for blood right away, but I didn’t think you were anywhere near the testing stage yet. You never told me you’d started seal development, let alone completed one!”

She hooked the notes back onto his bed and stared at him, her expression torn between amazement and distress. Iruka smiled, hoping to comfort her.

“It was pure luck,” he confessed. “I’d been playing around with a blood loss prevention seal and had a pile of chakra paper in a drawer beside the bed. I’d never even tested it, I was just hoping it would work. The theory seemed sound and I didn’t have time to doubt myself.”

Kaede moved to sit on the chair that Naruto had occupied earlier. “Unbelievable.”

Iruka laughed softly and winced at the pain it caused. “I’m even more thankful now for all the help you’ve given me. Without your guidance, I wouldn’t have got this far with my research. I may need to put my work on hold for a little while though.”

“Well, of course. Your medical notes look good and your recovery should be fairly quick, but you shouldn’t push yourself.” She paused and reached up to push a lock of hair behind her ear. “Iruka-sensei, I hope I’m not being insensitive for asking after practical matters, but are your research materials in a safe place?”

“It’s all hidden in my room,” Iruka reassured her. He wondered if the sealing scroll containing it all was now soaked in his blood. Hopefully nothing inside it had been damaged.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you to have left it somewhere safe,” Kaede said, “but it’s highly classified material. Since you’ll be in the hospital for a few days, maybe you should tell me where it is and I’ll keep it in my office until you’re well enough to resume working on it.”

“It’s inside one of the pillowcases on my bed,” Iruka said sheepishly. “If you could move it, that would be for the best.”

Kaede nodded. “I’ll see to it later. Now, Iruka-sensei, if there’s anything I can do to make your stay here more comfortable, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”

“I think I have everything I need for the moment. But thank you for asking.”

“I need to get back to work, but the offer stands indefinitely,” Kaede said, standing up and pausing near the door. “Get better quickly, Iruka-sensei. You don’t belong in a hospital bed.”

 

* * *

 

Tenzou exited the hokage’s office and just stood for a moment in the corridor, trying to piece his thoughts together. The 3am Killer was ANBU. Sandaime had already compiled a list of all current and former male ANBU operatives particularly skilled with genjutsu – a list that Tenzou thankfully wasn’t part of – and Tenzou had folded a copy of it into his notebook to read in detail later.

Sandaime had asked him not to interview Iruka yet, worried that it was too soon after the attack for Iruka to relive his experience with someone dressed like his assailant. He’d related to Tenzou what Iruka had already told him, however, and Tenzou’s initial reaction had been much the same as Kakashi’s. ANBU was more than an elite security force, they were a tight-knit community. ANBU operatives were only allowed to reveal their membership with one person outside of ANBU, and that person had to be a close family member or a romantic partner of more than three years. Many ANBU didn’t have anyone who qualified, and so the only people they could talk to honestly about their lives were other ANBU. To Tenzou, certainly, the bonds of trust between them were sacred.

But now Tenzou would have to investigate his own, shaking the foundations of that trust in the process. But he would do it, not least because Sandaime had helped him to take a step back and look at the situation more logically. It was true that wearing an ANBU uniform didn’t necessarily mean the killer was currently serving in ANBU, but stealing a mask and uniform would take an extremely high level of skill and cunning. ANBU gear was stored in the organisation’s offices, which took up a whole floor of the Hokage Tower and weren’t accessible through either of the main stairwells. The entrance to the private ANBU stairwell, as well as the windows on the floor itself, were sealed with powerful wards that only responded to the chakra signatures of serving ANBU members and the hokage. Even the village council couldn’t access ANBU’s base of operations.

With these security measures, there were only two options for a potential thief: to disable the wards through the method known as ‘lock picking’, which used a justu that called for incredibly fine chakra control and was time consuming even when done right, or to influence a current ANBU member to commit the theft. The first option Tenzou could dismiss without even thinking about it. If the wards were ever disabled for more than five seconds – more than long enough for someone to pass through a door – alarms would go off, alerting every ANBU in the offices that there was a security breach. Once wards were picked, the intruder couldn’t activate them again, making this a foolproof system, and Tenzou would know if the wards had been forcibly disabled recently.

The other option was that the killer wasn’t ANBU but had an accomplice, willing or otherwise, who was. ANBU weren’t immune to genjutsu or other advanced methods used to control a person. But, even assuming that you didn’t have to know an ANBU’s identity to target them, former ANBU were much more likely to know enough details of the offices’ security to come up with a plan that ensured their accomplice wasn’t caught.

Sandaime had explained this reasonably and patiently, looking no happier than Tenzou was at the path the logic forced them to take. Chances were high that 3am was ANBU, former or current. There was nothing to be done but accept it.

The silver lining was that Iruka’s testimony narrowed Tenzou’s field of possible suspects from practically the entire village to a list of twenty-seven names. The obvious place to continue his investigations, in light of this development, was the ANBU equipment room.

Before he could reach the private stairwell, however, he ran into an obstacle. Kakashi was loitering by the stairwell door, and he stood up straighter when he saw Tenzou.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said.

To those who knew the signs, Kakashi was visibly upset. His hands were jammed in his pockets to prevent him from fidgeting and betraying his agitation, and his posture had changed from a lazy slouch to the confident bearing he’d held himself with during his ANBU days.

“How’s Iruka-sensei?” Tenzou asked cautiously.

This was apparently the wrong subject to choose. “I wouldn’t know. Try asking someone who’s allowed to see him.”

“You’re on the list.” It should have been obvious. Kakashi was a clear fit for the profile. In fact, if Kakashi wasn’t one of the few people Tenzou would trust with his life, he might have re-categorised him from a witness he wanted to interview to a person of interest.

“Are you leading the investigation?”

Tenzou paused. It wasn’t exactly a secret, considering the number of people he’d already spoken to about the case, but he knew where this conversation was going and the last thing he needed was a personally invested jounin trying to pump him for classified information.

His silence must have lasted a beat too long, because Kakashi scowled at him.

“I know you’re investigating the serial killings. At Iruka’s house you said there’d been no seals on the other two victims. You wouldn’t know that unless you’d seen the bodies or the case files.”

Sometimes it was tiring how sharp Kakashi was. They didn’t call him a genius for nothing.

“I can’t talk to you about the case,” Tenzou said wearily.

“Do you think I did it?”

“No.”

Kakashi nodded, as though he’d already known he was above Tenzou’s suspicions.

“I’m going to help you solve this.”

And this was exactly the sort of conversation Tenzou had been hoping to avoid.

“Senpai, you can’t hijack an ANBU investigation,” he said, trying not to sound patronising. “You don’t have the clearance, and even if you did, your friendship with Iruka-sensei makes you emotionally compromised.”

Kakashi was clearly expecting this argument. “I’m not asking you to show me your case files. Just tell me who to watch or talk to and _I’ll_ give _you_ the information. My relationship with Iruka-sensei will only motivate me to work harder.”

“You say that now, but I know you. You’ll find some compelling reason why I should give you more information, and then you’ll whine and plead and call in favours I don’t even owe you –”

“Tenzou, I’m serious about this. I’m going to investigate this with or without you. You can either keep an eye on me and speed up the whole process by giving me some solid leads to follow, or I can go solo and waste everybody’s time going over the same shit you’ve already looked at.”

Tenzou glanced around to make sure nobody had overheard Kakashi mention his name while he was wearing his mask. That was the kind of careless slip Kakashi would never usually make, which did nothing to raise Tenzou’s confidence in him. However, he knew that Kakashi wasn’t making idle threats. Left to his own devices, God only knew what kind of damage he could do.

“Fine,” Tenzou said reluctantly. “You can help me out, but if anyone asks, you’re acting on your own. I won’t let you compromise this investigation, Kakashi.”

Kakashi nodded seriously. “What do you need me to do?”

 

* * *

 

The ANBU equipment room was at the back of the building. The window, like all of the windows on this floor, was covered with wards that not only restricted entry but also made the glass opaque when viewed from the outside. From the inside, the sunlight passed through uninhibited, lighting up the room.

Tenzou had sent Kakashi off with his notebook and told him to read through it. The case files were restricted documents and not even Kakashi could persuade Tenzou to show them to him, but Tenzou’s own personal notes were technically at his own discretion. It was a fine line, and Tenzou could already imagine the hokage’s disapproving face if he found out, but he wasn’t showing Kakashi documents beyond his clearance level. Technically.

The equipment room was where ANBU armour and weapons were kept, as well as materials used on missions such as chakra paper, sealing scrolls and chakra wire. It was a general storage area for everything except the office stationery, which had its own cupboard down the hall.

The masks were kept in a cupboard at the back of the room. Masks from former ANBU members were kept for three years, in case of a return to service, after which time they were destroyed and had to be recreated if the ANBU decided to return. Blank masks were used for certain training exercises as well as being on hand for new recruits.

Tenzou switched on the monitor of the computer by the door. The screen already showed the equipment logs. Every piece of equipment had to be checked in and out of the room, and records were saved on the computer for a year before being uploaded to one of the servers in the records room. There was a security camera in the corner to make sure no one simply helped themselves to weaponry without checking it out.

According to today’s logs, there should be seventeen unpainted masks, of which five were currently checked out for training purposes. Tenzou printed the logs for the two weeks prior to Akane’s death, although he doubted he’d find anything worth following up. 3am couldn’t have been stupid enough to check the mask out under his own name.

Before he left, Tenzou counted the masks in the cupboard. There should have been twelve. He was completely unsurprised to find that there were only eleven.

 

* * *

 

Kakashi’s wards were down, and Tenzou wondered if it was intentional or a further sign of Kakashi’s distracted state. He knocked, and heard Kakashi shout for him to come inside. The door was unlocked.

“You should be more security conscious, senpai,” Tenzou scolded as he entered, removing his mask once the door was shut again behind him.

“It’ll only make things easier if the murdering bastard comes to me,” came the answer. Tenzou rolled his eyes.

Kakashi was sitting in the living room, his legs crossed beneath him on the couch, vest discarded and hitae-ate removed, although his left eye was currently closed. Tenzou imagined he’d been using the sharingan to memorise the contents of his notebook.

“Have you finished reading my notes?”

Kakashi gestured for him to sit down. “What’s this bullshit theorising about someone picking off _disrespectful_ chuunin?” The disdain was thick in his voice.

“I was using the word I thought the killer might use,” Tenzou explained. He lay his mask down on the coffee table and wiped away the thin sheen of sweat that always formed on his upper lip when he wore it on a warm day.

“You think Iruka-sensei was attacked because of what he said to me.”

“I can’t ignore the possibility. I’m not saying it was your fault.”

“I picked a fight with him,” Kakashi said, staring fiercely at the opposite wall. “I could have handled it differently, but I chose to make a scene. I’m such a fucking idiot. Why is he even friends with me?”

“Maybe he doesn’t mind you acting like a fucking idiot every once in a while,” Tenzou suggested.

Kakashi snorted and threw him a knowing glance. “You say that like someone speaking from experience.”

“I’m friends with you because I have endless patience,” Tenzou said seriously, and was relieved when Kakashi laughed.

“Did you find anything in the equipment room?” Kakashi asked.

“There was a mask missing, but that’s what I expected to find. I took a print-out of the logs but I haven’t had chance to go through it yet.”

“I’ll do it.”

Tenzou gave him a stern look. “You can’t look at any documentation from the offices. You _know_ that, Kakashi.”

Kakashi sighed but didn’t try to argue. “So what can I do?”

Tenzou thought about it. “You and Iruka-sensei are very close, aren’t you?”

“Fairly close. I mean, pretty close. I mean, yeah, I guess so.”

Tenzou raised an eyebrow but otherwise ignored Kakashi’s sudden ineloquence. “This argument you two had yesterday, is there any possible way it could be related to the Hyuuga clan?”

Kakashi stared at him for a long moment. Tenzou waited it out.

“I noticed in your notes that you’re a bit hung up on Hiashi,” Kakashi said. “I didn’t see him there yesterday, but there was probably at least one Hyuuga hanging about. I think Hiashi’s daughter is in Kurenai’s genin team.”

Tenzou snatched the notebook back and flipped to a page titled _Why Them?_ Beneath it he’d circled the name Hyuuga and around it summarised Hiashi’s connections to Eri and Akane. Now he added another branch, writing Iruka’s name with suppressed excitement.

“The argument with Eri-san was about Hinata too,” Kakashi said, making the same connections as Tenzou. “Iruka-sensei was really just concerned about Naruto, but to someone who didn’t know that, he was saying that none of the nine genin on the rookie teams were good enough for the chuunin exams. The Hyuugas are definitely proud enough to be offended by a slight like that.”

Another thought hit Tenzou.

“Hang on a second.” He pulled the list of ANBU operatives from his pocket. It was more than his job was worth to show that to Kakashi. Scanning the names, he made a pen mark beside three of them.

“How many Hyuugas fit the profile?” Kakashi asked.

“I can’t tell you,” Tenzou muttered automatically. There was one current ANBU on the list and two former. Hiashi himself hadn’t made the cut – Tenzou wouldn’t be surprised if he’d once been ANBU, but his genjutsu skills clearly weren’t up to scratch – but Tenzou hadn’t seriously considered that the Hyuuga clan head was going around murdering chuunin. He may well be giving the orders, but it was more likely that another clan member had gone rogue. That didn’t mean that Hiashi wasn’t aware of what was happening, though.

“If I send you to speak with Hiashi, will I regret it?” Tenzou asked.

Kakashi lit up at the prospect of action. “Absolutely not. Is he on the list?”

“I can’t tell you who’s on the list. Stop asking.”

Kakashi started pulling his vest back on. “What are you going to do while I’m gone?”

Tenzou folded the list back into his notebook and put it away. “Look through the equipment room logs, first of all. Then go out and start chasing down ANBU.”

Kakashi winced. He understood the ANBU bond of trust and what it meant that Tenzou had to break it down.

“Meet you back here in two hours?”

“You better not be late.”

 

* * *

 

Sasuke and Sakura had given up waiting after two hours that morning. They were used to Kakashi being late, but Naruto was usually on time. At half past nine, Sasuke had suggested that they start training by themselves, still half expecting Kakashi to eventually turn up with some tall tale about why he couldn’t stick to his own damn schedule, but when noon rolled around and they were still the only ones on the training ground, it was clear that nobody else was coming.

Sakura flopped down on the grass and leaned back against a tree. “Do you think Kakashi-sensei actually had the nerve to cancel the session and not bother to tell us?”

Sasuke sat down next to her, jamming a kunai back into its holster. “Why would he tell Naruto and not us?”

“Probably just to mess with us.”

Sasuke couldn’t argue with that.

They sat in silence for a while, recovering from their latest bout of sparring. Sasuke could feel the pulse of chakra from the other nearby training fields, and he was idly watching two chuunin practising taijutsu not far from them when Sakura grabbed his arm.

“Hey, look at those guys.”

Sasuke followed her line of sight and saw three teenagers he didn’t recognise walking past their training field. The youngest was a boy about their age with red hair, and he was with another boy and a girl, both of whom were two or three years older. They were dressed strangely, which Sasuke assumed was why Sakura had pointed them out. The redheaded boy had a large gourd strapped to his back, and the other boy had markings painted on his face and was carrying what looked like a person wrapped in bandages on his back.

“Look at their hitae-ate,” Sakura hissed, just as Sasuke noticed it himself.

They weren’t Konoha shinobi. Instead of the leaf symbol, they were wearing the mark of Suna. Sasuke sat up a little straighter and stared at the three strangers more intently. If they noticed his attention, they showed no sign of it. The girl was saying something and pointing ahead, and then she started running, moving across the ground with fluid ease. The two boys exchanged a glance before taking off after her.

Sasuke stood up. “Let’s follow them.”

“Why?”

“In case they’re the enemy.”

He heard Sakura protesting behind him, but she still followed when he started moving through the trees, following the path the Sand shinobi had taken.

“Why would enemy shinobi be wandering around Konoha out in the open?” Sakura hissed, a half step behind him.

“Are you willing to take a chance and let them go because they _might_ not be a threat?”

“What are we going to do if they _are_ a threat?”

Sasuke felt his lip curl up in anticipation. “Then we fight them.”

They were heading towards the training fields at the very edge of town. There were fewer shinobi out here, which made it easier for Sasuke and Sakura to trail the Sand shinobi without being seen. The three outsiders were sticking to the clearly marked paths between the training areas, but their pursuers cut across some of the empty fields, sticking to the tree line that ran around the edges of most of the training grounds, acting as borders and providing a change of terrain for sparring shinobi.

“I’ve never been this far out before,” Sakura commented. “Where could they be going?”

“I’ve heard there’s a special training ground on the village border,” Sasuke replied distractedly.

“What’s so special about it?”

“I don’t know.” Sasuke paused and squinted ahead. “Do those trees look kind of big to you?”

A few minutes later, it became clear what was special about the training ground farthest from the village. The Sand shinobi had stopped in front of a huge wire fence, at least three times the height of a grown man. Beyond it lay a forest unlike anything Sasuke had seen.

The trees were so huge that the ground beneath them was thrust into deep shadow, and the whole place had an untamed air unlike the patches of friendlier trees in the rest of the training grounds. Sasuke wondered if it was fenced off to keep people out or to keep the wilderness in.

“What _is_ that place?” Sakura wondered aloud.

By the fence, the younger boy performed a series of hand seals and a patch of ground beneath the fence caved in, created a small ditch that he then crawled through, his companions following. Sasuke could hear the older boy complaining loudly.

“Gaara, you made the hole too small!”

They disappeared amongst the trees, and Sasuke broke cover to follow them.

“You seriously want to go in there?” Sakura asked. She was eyeing the forest with apprehension.

There was a sign hanging on the fence close to where the earth jutsu had carved a hole. It said in large letters: _Training ground 44. No admittance except to maintenance team until further notice._ The chains holding the fence together were covered in seals to strengthen them.

Sasuke crouched down and crawled under the fence before Sakura could stop him.

“What are you doing?” she hissed from the other side, eyes wide and worried. “It says we’re not allowed in. We’ll get in trouble!”

“Don’t you want to know what those freaks are doing in here?”

Sasuke stood his ground and waited. Sakura might complain, but she’d follow him, partly because she’d go along with almost anything he suggested, but mostly because, despite her good girl act, Sakura was a rebel at heart. They’d been in a class together since they were six years old; Sasuke knew her well enough by now.

Sure enough, still grumbling under her breath, Sakura crawled through the ditch and stood up inside the fence, glancing nervously over her shoulder.

“Come on.”

Sasuke led the way, following the trail left in the dirt.

It wasn’t hard to find the Sand shinobi again. They were walking slowly among the giant tree roots and talking without bothering to lower their voices.

“I don’t see why they call it the Forest of Death,” the girl was saying scornfully. “What’s so scary about this dump?”

“I can see why they’d use it for the chuunin exams, though,” the older boy said thoughtfully. “It’s not exactly easy terrain.”

“You better be right about this, Kankuro,” the girl said. “Otherwise we’re wasting our time on stupid rumours when we could be doing something useful like training.”

The redhead, Gaara, suddenly held up his hand to silence them. He turned and flung a kunai towards where Sasuke and Sakura were ducked behind a tree root. “Who’s there?”

Sasuke stepped out into their line of sight, aware of Sakura following closely.

“I should be asking who you are,” he said, annoyed that they’d been discovered but unwilling to show it. “You’re trespassing.”

The bluff almost worked. Kankuro and the girl exchanged a nervous glance, but Gaara’s stare was unwavering.

“You’re genin,” he observed. “I doubt you have permission to be here. You’re trespassing just as much as we are.”

Sasuke let him have that. “What are you doing in our village? You’re not Konoha shinobi.”

“What do you _think_ we’re here for?” the girl asked. She rummaged around in her pocket and withdrew an official looking piece of paper, which she waved at them. “We’re going to take the chuunin exams. There’s a rumour going around that one of the exams will take place in this cosy little forest, so we thought we’d take a peek.”

“Chuunin exams?” Sakura blurted out.

“You don’t know?” Kankuro raised an eyebrow at them. “Shit, Temari, did you hear that? They don’t even know about it!”

“Well, they’re just kids,” Temari replied, shrugging it off. “Give them a couple of years to stop wetting themselves – hey!”

She only just dodged Sasuke’s shuriken, which thunked into the ground behind her.

“You trying to start something?” she asked, reached for a weapon.

“Stop talking, start fighting.”

Temari moved forwards, her hands full of sharp metal, and Sasuke lowered into a defensive crouch.

“Hey, what are you kids doing in here?”

All five genin whirled around to see a woman walking towards them. She was maybe eighteen or nineteen, wearing a chuunin jacket, and had a full grown tiger slung effortlessly over her shoulders.

“This training ground is off limits right now,” she continued, coming out into the clearing and giving them all an exasperated look. “Take your sparring somewhere else, we’re working in here.”

The tiger sniffed and lifted its head from where it had been hanging in defeat by the woman’s side. Catching sight of Sakura standing nervously five feet away, it opened its mouth and snarled. Sakura backed away so fast she tripped and fell into a patch of bushes.

“We’re sorry, miss,” Kankuro said, eyeing the tiger. “We’ll be leaving right now.”

“Damn straight you will. I’m even gonna walk you out since I’m such a good host.”

It was then that Sakura screamed. Sasuke was by her side in an instant, trying to see what was wrong, and then he realised that what he’d taken for pile of twigs beside her was actually a hand, half buried, its fingers reaching up from beneath the ground.

The tiger squirmed and roared, and the woman dumped it on the ground and flicked a barrier seal over it almost absentmindedly.

“Is it a snake?” she asked, coming over without much haste. “The snakes look worse than they really are, don’t worry.” Then she saw the hand. “Oh, _fuck_.”

The Sand shinobi had also gathered around them.

“Stand back,” Gaara said. “I’ll unbury it.”

He performed another jutsu, and the earth started pushing upwards, slowly revealing the body as it rose to the surface. As its face came into view, Sakura shrieked again and clutched at Sasuke’s arm.

The body wasn’t fresh anymore, and the stench was so strong it brought tears to Sasuke’s eyes, forcing him to cover his mouth and nose. However, the real horror lay in the fact that insects had burrowed into its flesh and were visible now, crawling over the skin and the ragged remains of a shinobi uniform. The eyes had gone completely, and as Sasuke watched, a maggot fled from the light into one of the empty sockets. He turned away and retched.

“Fuck this shit,” the chuunin gasped. “This is why we plaster warning signs all over the damn fence.” She flared her chakra in three sharp bursts, a distress signal. “Do you see, kids? This forest is not a playground. People die in here.”

Sakura had both hands over her mouth, her face drained of colour. “You think something in the forest did this to him – her – this person?”

“This place is full up to the eyeballs with traps and dangerous animals,” the chuunin said. “We don’t call it the Forest of Death for nothing.”

Sakura was still staring at the corpse. “But it looks like he’s been stabbed.”

Trying not to breathe through his nose, Sasuke turned back to the body. Sakura was right. The ragged cloth of the dead shinobi’s shirt was ripped where a blade had pushed through, and although the red of blood didn’t show on the black material, Sasuke could see traces of it on the pale flesh beneath. The chuunin picked up a stick and prodded the shirt up, peeling it away from the skin where it had stuck. There in the abdomen was a puckered wound, maybe two inches long, like a sword had been thrust into the body.

“Worst day ever,” the chuunin groaned, and sent out the distress flare again.

Sasuke turned away and was sick again onto the grass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tenzou often wonders, with varying degrees of seriousness, why he's friends with Kakashi. Kakashi never wonders why he's friends with Tenzou.


	5. Chapter Five

Kakashi was halfway to the Hyuuga compound when Gai accosted him. It was outside the Hokage Tower, and it was testament to how shinobi could adapt to anything that no one so much as glanced around when Gai’s voice boomed Kakashi’s name across the square.

Kakashi stopped reluctantly. It wasn’t that he was above pretending he hadn’t heard, but after his argument with Iruka yesterday, he’d also had an argument with Gai on the same subject. Gai had agreed with Iruka completely that Team Seven weren’t ready for the chuunin exams, and Kakashi had been rather snippy with him. They hadn’t spoken since.

“Kakashi, I sent someone to look for you two hours ago. Where’ve you been hiding?”

“Well, I was in the hospital all morning with Iruka-sensei, and since then –”

“Iruka-sensei’s hurt?”

Clearly the gossip hadn’t filtered its way through the whole village yet. Gai looked thunderstruck, and Kakashi almost felt bad for having to tell him what had happened. Gai had been friendly with Iruka for longer than he had, which was a shame because introducing people to Gai was one of Kakashi’s favourite pastimes.

“He was attacked by The 3am Killer. He’s alive,” he added hastily.

Gai’s shoulders slumped and he ran a hand back through his hair, leaving several strands sticking out at odd angles. “I’ll go and see him later. This really has been a bad day all around. Kakashi, I needed to speak with you about two of your young trainees.”

Oh, shit, Kakashi had completely forgotten about Sasuke and Sakura. “Ah, I was supposed to meet them for training this morning. They must be so mad. I was even going to be on time today!”

Gai didn’t even cock a disbelieving eyebrow. Something about his seriousness alarmed Kakashi. “Did something happen to them?”

“Sort of,” Gai said. He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Sasuke and Sakura were trespassing in the Forest of Death this morning.” Kakashi stared. If it had been Naruto, he would have believed it without a shadow of a doubt, but why were his two well-behaved students acting up? Gai wasn’t finished, however. “They found a body.”

“They _what_?”

Gai shushed him. “I was training nearby and responded to a distress flare. They’re still in the tower speaking with ANBU but they’re both very upset.”

“Take me to them.”

Interrogating Hiashi could wait. All three of Kakashi’s students had been traumatised today and when he found out who was responsible he was going to do some traumatising of his own.

Sasuke and Sakura were in a meeting room in the tower, along with three teenagers wearing Suna hitae-ate and a blonde woman Kakashi recognised as the chuunin in charge of the Forest of Death maintenance team, Shinomiya Miyu. The room, like all tower meeting rooms, was soundproofed with seals, but the door wasn’t locked and the two ANBU in the room didn’t protest when Kakashi and Gai walked in. Apparently whatever had happened wasn’t above his clearance level.

“Kakashi-sensei,” Sakura said without any of her usual anger. “Where have you been?”

She was more subdued than usual but otherwise looked like she’d already recovered from the shock. Sasuke, however, was hunched into himself, refusing to look up at Kakashi. They were both sitting in chairs pulled back from the meeting table, and neither made a move to stand up. The ANBU seemed to have finished with them and were speaking to the Sand genin. Gai turned away to talk with Shinomiya.

Kakashi pulled out a chair and sat opposite his students. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Something urgent came up and I forgot to let you know. I’m not lying,” he added, seeing Sakura’s doubtful expression. “I’ll tell you what happened in a minute, but first, are you both all right?”

Sakura nodded. Sasuke didn’t even twitch.

“We’re fine,” Sakura said. “It was just a shock. But I guess it’s a good thing we found him. The dead man, I mean. So they can find out what happened to him.”

“That’s true. I’m sure his family will be thankful for the closure. They must have been wondering where he’d gone.” Sakura seemed comforted by the thought. “Sasuke, what about you?”

Sasuke finally looked up, his mouth set in a grim line, his eyes furious. “The man we found was murdered and buried in a training ground,” he said. “Why does this keep happening? Why are innocent people being killed? And why is no one _doing anything_ about it?”

Kakashi hesitated. He wasn’t sure where this anger was coming from. “You think this is connected to The 3am Killer?”

“I fucking hope so. Otherwise there are two murderers running around Konoha.” He glared at Kakashi, his eyes suspiciously wet. “You said we’d be _safe_. But I don’t feel safe at all.”

So that’s what it was. Sasuke wasn’t really angry, he was afraid. He lived alone, Kakashi remembered, in that big empty clan compound where the air was still heavy with death. Sometimes he forgot how young Sasuke was, and how much he’d already lost.

Kakashi reached out and put a hand on Sasuke’s knee. Sasuke didn’t jerk away. “I promise that as long as I’m around, I’ll protect all three of you as much as I can. I’m sorry I left you alone this morning. I won’t do it again. If you want to, you can stay with me until these murders are solved and the killers are caught. Would that help?”

Sasuke stared at him for a long moment and then nodded.

“Sakura, do you feel safe at home?”

“I think so. My parents are civilians but they’ve both had weapons training.” All civilians were offered basic weapons and taijutsu training and most of them took it. It was worth knowing some self-defence when you lived in a hidden village. “And Iruka-sensei said he’d come visit one day and take a look at the wards I set up and show me how to make them stronger.”

Kakashi really didn’t want to give them the bad news, but they’d find out eventually and it was better if it came from him.

“Actually, Iruka-sensei may not be able to do that for a little while,” he started slowly. “Naruto and I were with him at the hospital this morning. He was attacked last night, but he should be all right to go home in a few days.”

Sasuke stiffened. “It was him, wasn’t it? 3am.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Sakura snapped, but her eyes were wide and she didn’t take her gaze off Kakashi. “He’d be dead if it was 3am, right, Kakashi-sensei?”

“It was him,” Kakashi confirmed. “But you don’t need to worry. There are ANBU guarding him in the hospital and I think Naruto’s planning on moving into his hospital room until he’s released.”

“Can we visit him?” Sakura asked.

“Of course. You can go right now as long as the ANBU are done talking to you.”

“Are you coming with us?” Sasuke asked.

Kakashi hesitated. “I can’t right now. I have some important things to do.”

Sasuke stared him down. “What could be more important than making sure Iruka-sensei’s all right?”

Kakashi stared right back. “Finding the bastard who hurt him.”

That seemed to appease Sasuke, and he and Sakura stood up and made their way towards the exit.

“Meet me in front of the hospital in two hours,” Kakashi added to Sasuke’s retreating back. “I’ll walk you back to your house and you can get everything you need to stay at mine for a few days.”

Sasuke nodded, and they left.

Kakashi now had an hour to track down Hiashi and report back to Tenzou. There was one more thing he wanted to know before he left, though.

“Shinomiya.”

Shinomiya looked up from where she’d been talking to Gai. “Yo, Hatake. You gonna grill me now too?”

“Just a little. Did you see the body?”

“Yeah, I was there when Pink Hair tripped over it. Are those kids your students? You seriously need to talk to them about wandering into restricted areas.”

Right. Kakashi really should do that. “I will. Shinomiya, could you tell how the man had died?”

Shinomiya pulled a face. “Yeah, he’d been stabbed in the stomach. No other wounds that I could see, but the corpse was a little old.”

“How old?”

She tapped her bottom lip. “Well, if humans degrade at the same rate animals do, I’d say maybe two or three weeks. What’s it to you anyway?”

Kakashi smiled placatingly and held up his hands. “Just curious.”

Shinomiya snorted, and even Gai was eyeing him with suspicion, so Kakashi decided it was time for a hasty exit.

Later, he’d get Tenzou to get a copy of the coroner’s report on the body from the forest. Maybe it was unrelated to 3am’s killing spree, but a body stabbed through the abdomen in the right time frame was similar enough that it might be more than a coincidence.

  


* * *

  


Kawaguchi Rikuo was the name of the ANBU who’d checked out the missing blank mask. Tenzou had gone through the logs and found an entry dated the day before Akane had died, showing that Kawaguchi had borrowed the mask and a full uniform. There was no log showing the items’ return.

That made four past or present ANBU that Tenzou needed to talk to: Kawaguchi and the three Hyuugas who fit the killer’s profile. This was the part Tenzou had been dreading: having to treat his colleagues like suspects. He knew Kawaguchi and liked him, and he took a small amount of comfort from the fact that Kawaguchi didn’t fit the profile.

When Tenzou asked at the ANBU offices, he discovered that Kawaguchi was currently out on patrol. He sent someone to fetch him and commandeered a private office while he waited.

There was no sense in wasting time, so Tenzou logged onto the computer and accessed the mission records for Hyuuga Daisuke, the only current ANBU on his list. On the night of Akane’s murder, Daisuke had been on a three day non-ANBU mission outside the village, and he’d been on night patrol when Eri had died. Tenzou scratched the name off his list. He then checked Kawaguchi’s records. He’d been on guard duty at the prison when Eri had been killed. Kawaguchi’s name wasn’t on the list to cross out, so Tenzou added it and then scribbled it out. Two cleared, two to go.

Kawaguchi arrived ten minutes later. He slipped into the office, closing the door behind him, and took his mask off, lying it on the table next to Tenzou’s. Masks weren’t required in the offices, and no one chose to wear a layer of porcelain over their face if they didn’t have to.

“What did you need to talk to me about?”

Tenzou waved Kawaguchi to take the seat opposite him across the desk. “Just some equipment you checked out a couple of weeks ago.”

Kawaguchi’s shoulders relaxed an inch. “Why, was something damaged?”

Tenzou passed him the equipment room log. He’d circled the right entry. “Eighteen days ago, you checked out a blank mask and full uniform and never returned them. Can you tell me why you needed them and where they are now?”

Kawaguchi stared at the paper as though he couldn’t understand what it was saying. “I never checked these out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Completely.” Kawaguchi didn’t even hesitate. He looked genuinely confused, his eyebrows drawn together in a contemplative frown. “If it was just a mask, I might have forgotten, but a whole uniform? I haven’t needed any new armour for months.”

“Is it possible that your pass code’s been compromised?”

Each ANBU had their own pass code to access the computer systems, and items couldn’t be checked out of the equipment room without the shinobi logging in to the programme.

“It must have been,” Kawaguchi said. “You’re saying someone used my code to steal equipment?”

He looked shocked. Tenzou would be too if he thought a fellow ANBU had stolen his pass code to commit petty theft.

“Nothing’s been returned, that’s for sure. Kawaguchi, I have to ask, where were you that day?”

“Let’s see.” Kawaguchi checked the date on the log. “That was a Thursday, right? I’ve been working the graveyard shift on Thursdays for the past month, so I was sleeping all morning, probably didn’t get up until two or three in the afternoon. Then I think I stayed at home, might have gone shopping for some bits – oh, I met up with a couple of friends for a meal at seven. Started my shift at ten, did some paperwork, went on patrol...it’ll be in my mission logs.”

Tenzou took the sheet of paper back and looked at the time stamp for when the equipment had been logged out. 11:34am. In theory, Kawaguchi should have been asleep in bed at that time. Perhaps someone really had managed to steal his pass code, but there was also a killer out there who could break into houses and put people under genjutsu while they slept.

“Did you have any security breaches at your house that morning?”

Kawaguchi stared at him. “No, of course not. Why?”

That didn’t prove anything. When someone lock picked wards, they couldn’t put them back up, but if they could control the person who owned the wards, it was a whole different story.

“Just some routine questions. That’s everything I wanted to ask you about,” Tenzou said.

Kawaguchi sat back and crossed his arms. “Don’t pull the ‘routine questions’ bullshit with me, Tenzou. You’re supposed to be investigating the 3am murders, not checking up on outstanding equipment.” Tenzou saw the exact moment when the dots connected. “Holy shit, you think 3am’s ANBU.” A pause while that revelation sank in. “Wait, you don’t think _I_ killed those chuunin, do you?”

“No, I don’t,” Tenzou said. He’d known this was going to happen. ANBU were smart. You couldn’t bluff your way past them.

“But you think the killer stole my pass code and took that stuff.” Kawaguchi frowned. “Why would he need a uniform if he’s already ANBU?”

Tenzou sighed. Why couldn’t anyone let him investigate in peace? “I can’t talk to you about an internal investigation.”

“Is he going to come after me?”

It was a possibility. Kawaguchi was a loose end that might need tying up. “I don’t know. If you want protection, I can put a guard on your house. I’d definitely advise updating your wards. Our killer’s an accomplished lock picker.”

“Well, shit,” Kawaguchi said, quite calmly, considering the circumstances. “Yeah, I might take that guard.”

“I’ll have someone at your house by the time you finish your shift. Listen, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, but this whole conversation is completely confidential. If anyone asks, I wanted to talk to you about getting me some files and you can’t tell them any more than that.”

“Sure. You got it. Want me to let the gossip mill know that your progress is speedy like a snail?”

Tenzou smiled. “That’d be very helpful.” As Kawaguchi stood up to leave, he added, “And make sure you get a new pass code.”

Kawaguchi gave a sardonic salute and slipped his mask back on before leaving the room.

Before he left, Tenzou had one more thing he wanted to check. He wandered down the corridor until he came to the first office beside the stairwell. The door was open, as always, and he stepped inside without knocking.

Kita Tadaomi was the only non-combatant employed by ANBU. He was a chuunin – contrary to popular belief, jounin rank was not a requirement for ANBU operatives – and a full time secretary. He was one of the few people Tenzou considered a close friend.

“Tadaomi, you got a minute?”

Tadaomi had been pulling a face at some paperwork, and he looked relieved at the distraction. A woman was sitting at the room’s other desk, and she flashed a smile at Tenzou before returning her gaze to the computer monitor. ANBU generated too much paperwork for Tadaomi to manage by himself. Shifts assisting him in the office were rotated through the rest of ANBU, although some of the more stir-crazy operatives would do almost anything to avoid admin shifts.

“What, no mochi?” Tadaomi said. “What kind of a friend doesn’t bring anything when he visits?”

“Guess I’m just rude.”

“Guess you are. What do you want?”

The footage from the equipment room security cameras was kept in the admin office until the first of the following month, when someone would be assigned to check the logs against the contents of the equipment room. Theft wasn’t generally a problem at the offices – except for pens, which disappeared alarmingly quickly – which was why the equipment logs weren’t checked more often. It was also a painfully boring job to have to count everything in the equipment room, and it was the only shift Tenzou actively tried to avoid.

“I need to see the tape from the equipment room camera for Thursday the 12th.”

Tadaomi raised an eyebrow at him. “Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren’t you? Stock take isn’t until tomorrow.”

“I need to check something specific.”

“OK, I’ll set it up for you.”

There was another computer in the back room, and Tadaomi set up the footage on it before leaving Tenzou alone. Tenzou started the recording at 11:24, ten minutes before the mask and uniform had been checked out, and then settled back to watch.

At 11:27, Kawaguchi entered the room. He was wearing his mask at the side of his head, giving Tenzou a clear view of his face. Tenzou watched as he collected the items he needed, stored them in a bag he’d brought in with him, and logged onto the computer to check them out. Seven minutes after he’d entered, he left the room.

So it had been genjutsu after all. Tenzou had suspected as much. He briefly considered the merits of cross-checking Kawaguchi against the ANBU that fit the profile to try and find out which names had a likely connection to him. Then he realised it would be a waste of time. Everyone in ANBU knew Kawaguchi. It was his mask and code name that made him infamous – all ANBU code names were animals, real or mythical, and most chose carnivores or predators, names that would be respected. Kawaguchi, on the other hand, was code name Snail. As a result, he was the butt of many an ANBU joke, and since he’d been serving for almost a decade, Tenzou didn’t stand much chance in finding someone who didn’t know him. Maybe if neither of the remaining Hyuugas led anywhere he’d show Kawaguchi the list, but before that he’d spend his time following up more promising leads.

Tenzou put the tape away and went back through into the front of the admin office.

“Find what you were looking for?” Tadaomi asked.

“Yes,” Tenzou said. “Though I’m not sure it really helped.”

“Why are you checking up on equipment anyway? I thought you were on the 3am case.”

“Something came up,” Tenzou said vaguely. “But yes, you’re right. I should get back to that.”

He made his exit before Tadaomi could ask anything more.

“Bring sweets next time,” Tadaomi hollered after him.

  


* * *

  


Sasuke and Sakura came through the door shortly after Kaede had left. Naruto had just woken up and was rubbing his eyes blearily at Iruka’s side when his teammates came in and hovered at the end of the bed.

“What took you guys so long?” Naruto said through a yawn. Sakura glared at him.

“No one told us,” she snapped. “Iruka-sensei, we’re sorry. We would have come earlier if we’d known. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Don’t look so worried, I’m being very well looked after.” Iruka gestured to the two empty chairs beside the bed. “Sit down.”

“Does it hurt?” Sasuke asked, perching on the edge of the chair farthest from Iruka.

“Not very much. I’ll be on painkillers for a little while though.”

“What did you two do this morning?” Naruto asked. He was sitting up a little straighter on the bed now that they had company.

Sasuke and Sakura exchanged a look. Iruka noticed and frowned.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“We found a dead body,” Sasuke said before Sakura could speak. “Buried in the Forest of Death. I think he was killed by the same person who attacked you.”

“Sasuke!” Sakura hissed. “Iruka-sensei won’t want to talk about that.”

Iruka stared at them. “You found a _body_? What do you mean, Sasuke?”

“We found a body that had been stabbed through the stomach.” He glanced towards Iruka’s abdomen, covered by the blankets. “I told the ANBU it might have been The 3am Killer, but I don’t think they believed me.”

Iruka raked a hand through his hair. He wished he had something to tie it up with. “If there’s any evidence connecting the murders, I’m sure they’ll find it. More importantly, are the two of you all right?”

“We’re fine,” Sakura said. She smiled. “You sound like Kakashi-sensei. He didn’t even ask us about the body, he just wanted to know if we were OK.”

“Is that why Kakashi-sensei hasn’t come back?” Naruto asked. “Because of some dead body?”

Sasuke looked at Iruka. “He said he was going to find the person who hurt you.”

Iruka wasn’t sure what expression he was wearing. That Kakashi would try to hunt down a serial killer was both worrying and oddly comforting. The ANBU presence outside the door made him nervous, but knowing Kakashi was out there, trying to protect him from a distance, calmed him a little.

“If you see him again soon, will you tell him to be careful?”

Sasuke nodded.

“Iruka-sensei, when we were in the forest we met some genin from Suna,” Sakura said. “They said they were here for the chuunin exams. What were they talking about?”

Iruka turned to her in surprise. “Kakashi-sensei didn’t mention the exams to you?” Sakura shook her head, and a glance at the two boys showed that they were none the wiser. “The chuunin exams are held every year for genin who want to try for chuunin rank. In times of peace, they’re usually held internationally, so genin from a few different countries will all take the tests together in one hidden village. I passed my chuunin exam in Mist.”

“Is the exam going to be held in the forest?” Sakura asked. “That’s what those Sand shinobi were saying.”

“I can’t tell you that.” Iruka paused. “Kakashi-san really didn’t mention anything?”

“No.” Sasuke was staring at him intently, probably guessing what was coming next. “Why?”

It really wasn’t Iruka’s place to tell them, but the exams were starting in a few days and Kakashi was God knows where and distracted. “Kakashi-san nominated you all for the exams.”

“What?” Naruto bounced on the bed in his excitement, making Iruka wince and reach out to hold him still. “We’re gonna be chuunin already?”

“Only if you pass,” Iruka said. “The exams aren’t easy and you’re all very young.”

“But if I pass, I’ll be as strong as you are, Iruka-sensei!”

Iruka snorted and Sasuke and Sakura gave Naruto disdainful looks.

“Passing a test doesn’t make you stronger, idiot,” Sasuke said. “You’re still way less experienced than Iruka-sensei. That won’t change overnight.”

“But, but!”

“Where do you even get these dumb ideas?” Sakura groaned. She turned back to Iruka. “What kind of things will we need to do? Will we have to fight other genin?”

“Definitely. But the individual tasks change every year. You should talk to Kakashi-san about what kind of training he thinks would be best, and you better do it soon. The exams will be starting very soon.”

Naruto suddenly stopped trying to bounce around on the bed. “How soon?”

“Four days, I think.”

Naruto’s shoulders drooped. “Then I can’t take the exams this year.”

“What?” Sakura looked astonished. “Why not? A minute ago you couldn’t wait.”

“Because Iruka-sensei won’t be better in four days and I have to stay and look after him.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Iruka said quickly. “If you want to try for chuunin, you should. Don’t worry about me.”

“I _will_ worry about you,” Naruto argued. He crossed his arms. “What if that psycho comes back for you? I have to be here to protect you.”

Sakura bit her lip, but Sasuke had no qualms about speaking his mind.

“What difference could you make? There’s ANBU at the door – it’s not like you could do a better job than they could. You’d probably just get in the way if something did happen.”

Naruto hunched his shoulders and looked down at the bed.

“Sasuke,” Iruka admonished sharply, and Sasuke looked away, glaring at the wall.

But what could he say? It was probably true. The only reason he felt comfortable having Naruto so close was because if Iruka’s would-be murderer returned, there were ANBU around who could protect him.

“Naruto’s stronger than you think he is,” Sakura spoke up. They all looked at her. “And I know he’d do his absolute best if Iruka-sensei was in danger.” She turned her gaze on Naruto. “You don’t have to take the exams this year if you’d prefer to stay here. You’ll have a better chance of passing if you enter next year anyway.”

“Sakura-chan...” Sakura’s words seemed to have infused Naruto with a new determination. “Yeah, you’re right. Everyone can relax this year because I won’t be there to kick their butts, but they better watch out next year when I become the chuunin exams champion!”

Iruka tried to smile, but it came out weak. He hadn’t wanted Naruto to take the exams, and still didn’t, but he felt bad that he was getting in the way of what Naruto wanted to do. He glanced away and caught sight of the edge of a white, porcelain mask on the other side of the doorway. It was only his ANBU guard, but even knowing this, Iruka couldn’t repress the shudder that stole its way down his spine. He looked up to see Sasuke watching him and couldn’t work up the energy to try for another half-hearted smile.

  


* * *

  


Hiashi agreed to meet Kakashi with extreme reluctance. He didn’t say that Kakashi wasn’t welcome, and was perfectly polite when he sat down opposite Kakashi at the low table, making small talk while a young woman poured the tea. When she’d bowed and left, however, he didn’t wait to get to the point.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Hatake-san?”

Kakashi wasn’t one to beat around the bush either. “I wanted to talk to you about The 3am Killer.”

Hiashi’s face instantly closed off. “I thought ANBU were investigating the murders. Unless you forgot to put your mask on today, I don’t see why it’s any of your concern.”

“It became my concern when Umino Iruka was attacked last night.” Hiashi’s expression didn’t change. He’d already heard, but that was no surprise. “He’s a close friend of mine. I’m not here in any official capacity, but I am very interested to know who the killer is.”

“And you think I can tell you?”

“I think that I’m not the only one carrying out a private investigation. Eri-san might not have been your favourite person, but she was family, and family is important to you. I can help you find out who killed her, but I need you to help me too.”

Hiashi didn’t so much as blink. Kakashi made a mental note never to play poker with the man. “What makes you think you have any information I don’t already know?”

“I spoke to Iruka-sensei this morning. He saw the man who tried to kill him. He couldn’t identify him, but he saw enough to narrow the pool of suspects considerably.”

It wasn’t a slip that Kakashi used the male pronoun. He was revealing one card in his hand for free. If Hiashi knew the killer was a member of his clan, he’d need to find out how much Kakashi knew to assess the damage. If he was unaware of any involvement from his family, he’d need Kakashi’s information to move his investigation along. Kakashi knew he’d never implicate one of his own in the murders – he’d prefer to deal with a rogue clan member through assassination rather than have a Hyuuga at the centre of a scandal – but Kakashi was hoping he’d let something slip that would clue him in either way.

“With serial killings like these,” Hiashi said after a long pause, “the first victim often has a personal connection to the killer. It turns out that Fujimoto-san, despite her fierce reputation for adhering to the rules, had borrowed a number of restricted books and scrolls in the months before her death without bothering to fill out a single request form. I’m sure you know that it’s a serious crime to access restricted material without permission. In fact, a few days before she was targeted, I had a disagreement with her over an invalid permission slip, and she was adamant that there was no way around it except to apply for a new one from the hokage.”

From the look Hiashi was giving him, he’d guessed that Kakashi already knew about the argument.

“Why do you think there’s a connection between her law-breaking and her death?”

Hiashi took a sip of tea. “I hear she had a lot of arguments similar to the one I had with her. If someone she’d picked a fight with discovered her hypocrisy, I imagine he’d be quite angry.”

“Enough to kill?”

“We can stray into the field of conjecture as far as you like, but only hard evidence will bring the killer to justice. Speaking of hard evidence, I hope you do have some to share.”

Kakashi bristled, as he was sure Hiashi had meant him to. “Have you heard the theory that the murderer is a jounin picking off chuunin he considers disrespectful?”

“I’ve heard all sorts of rumours, most based on very little evidence. Some based on nothing at all.”

“All of the victims had an argument with or relating to members of the Hyuuga clan shortly before they were attacked.”

That got a reaction. Hiashi sat up very straight and narrowed his eyes.

“I believe you were the one who argued with Umino-sensei yesterday. Quite publicly, in fact.”

“He didn’t think any of the nine rookie genin were ready for the chuunin exams. Your daughter is among those nine. Some might think that her Academy teacher’s lack of faith is insulting to the clan.”

“Oh, please,” Hiashi snapped. “That’s circumstantial _at best_. At worst, it’s pure desperation. Do you have anything useful to tell me or you here simply to make baseless accusations?”

Kakashi couldn’t read him. He’d cracked Hiashi’s shell to reveal the anger beneath, and he still couldn’t read him. Was he angry because Kakashi was insulting his clan’s honour or because Kakashi was close to the truth? Kakashi had no idea.

“The killer is skilled at genjutsu,” he said. “Very skilled. Enough to put someone under while they’re sleeping, or in the exact moment of waking. He’s also a brilliant lock picker. Iruka-sensei’s wards were professional standard.”

Hiashi brought himself back under control and nodded tightly.

“You said Umino-sensei saw the killer. Surely we’ll find him much faster if you give me a description.”

Kakashi was willing to share a little, for the sake of not making an enemy, but he wasn’t willing to tell Hiashi that ANBU was compromised. For one thing, Tenzou would skin him alive.

“There’s no description except male. Iruka-sensei didn’t see his face. He was under a powerful genjutsu until the moment he was stabbed.”

Hiashi fixed him with a scrutinising stare. “Are you lying to me?”

“What good would that do? This isn’t a competition. There’s no bounty on 3am’s head that I’m trying to win.”

“That’s very true. And I hope that if Umino-sensei remembers anything more concrete, you’ll pass the information along.”

“As long as you’re not opposed to paying for it in kind.”

Hiashi stood and Kakashi did the same. His teacup lay untouched on the table, still steaming gently. Hiashi inclined his head, just enough to be respectful.

“Riku will escort you out,” he said, and the young woman who’d poured the tea materialised from behind a sliding door. “Please tell Umino-sensei that I wish him a speedy recovery.”

“I’ll tell him when I next see him,” Kakashi lied.

  


* * *

  


Hyuuga Eiji was out of the village on a mission and had been for the past week. Tenzou scribbled his name off the list. Current mission records were kept in the office behind the missions desk for a month or the length of the mission for longer term assignments, which was long enough for Tenzou to check whether the two ex-ANBU Hyuugas on his list were in town on the nights of the three attacks. He’d decided it was better to check for an obvious alibi before he started asking questions. Maybe it was the coward’s way out, but he didn’t want to harass ex-ANBU without good reason.

After leafing through the filing cabinet, Tenzou withdrew Hyuuga Haruki’s file and opened it. From the presence of C and D rank missions, he deduced that Haruki had a genin team, and there was a distinct lack of missions over the past two weeks, meaning Haruki had probably nominated them for the chuunin exams and had put a hold on missions while they trained. The last mission his team had been on had ended two days before Akane had died. It didn’t mean Haruki didn’t have an alibi for at least one of the murders, but it meant he’d definitely been in Konoha, and Tenzou doubted he’d been holding training sessions in the middle of the night.

After leaving the Mission Room, Tenzou headed out towards the training grounds in the hopes that Haruki was currently training his students there. Sure enough, he spotted Haruki with three teenage girls, two of whom were currently sparring while the third was practising aiming weapons at a moving target courtesy of Haruki’s shadow clone.

Haruki noticed Tenzou before he’d even stepped foot on the training ground, and as soon as he registered Tenzou’s gaze on him, he called to his students to keep practising and walked over to meet Tenzou at the edge of the field.

“Can I help you?” The question wasn’t rude but the tone was brusque.

“I hope so,” Tenzou replied. “If you have time, I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

“What about?”

“I’m investigating the 3am killings.”

Haruki scowled. “Is this about Eri? Don’t you have a new victim’s family to bother?” A thought struck him. “Oh, it was Umino, wasn’t it? I suppose you don’t, then.”

It wasn’t exactly a secret that Iruka had no living relatives – it wasn’t even a rare state for a shinobi to be the only member of their family – but the callous attitude to someone else’s loss irritated Tenzou. Haruki was perhaps ten years older than him and Tenzou couldn’t remember if their ANBU tenures had overlapped, but this was the first time he was aware of that they’d met, and Haruki wasn’t giving him a good first impression.

It was this irritation that decided Tenzou’s strategy. He went on the offensive.

“Where were you on the nights of the 13th, 24th and 29th of April?”

Haruki actually laughed. “The nights the chuunin were attacked, you mean? Do you treat everyone like a suspect or am I special?”

“Answer the question, please, Hyuuga-san.”

“Last night I was at home, in the clan compound, sleeping. Fucked if I know about the other two. Probably the same.”

“Can anyone confirm that?”

“I live in a clan compound, what do you think? My family would know if I didn’t come home at night. Though I guess I could have sneaked out and made a chuunin shish kebab and no one would have noticed.”

Tenzou had already decided that he really didn’t like this man. Being a prick, however, didn’t make him a killer.

“Can anyone confirm that you stayed in the compound all night on those three nights?”

Haruki scoffed. “Do they not teach sarcasm at ANBU school anymore?”

“Answer the question.”

“No, I sleep alone. Mind telling me why we’re doing this?”

“Routine questions. How was your relationship with Eri-san?”

“Routine questions my ass. If you think you’ve got something on me, just spit it out and I’ll happily tell you why you’re full of shit.”

“Did you support your family’s decision to disown Eri-san?”

Haruki folded his arms across his chest. “Everyone supported it. She was a disgrace. Her hobby was bringing dishonour on the clan and she didn’t give a shit how it made the rest of us look. Someone like that doesn’t deserve to be called a Hyuuga.”

He had the Hyuuga pride in spades. If this carried on, Tenzou wouldn’t be reaching for a pen to scratch Haruki’s name off the list any time soon.

“Did you know Iruka-sensei or Fujimoto-san?”

“I knew them enough to know I didn’t want to know them any better. They were both like Eri – didn’t know their place. Always talking back to jounin, refusing to respect authority, you know the type. Fujimoto was the archives trouble-maker. I swear she made up new rules every week for those damn forms, just so she’d have another reason to make people do the paperwork all over again. I bet she was laughing it up in that dusty old office of hers.”

“And Iruka-sensei?”

Haruki glanced back at his team and then looked at Tenzou pointedly. Tenzou didn’t care if he was keeping Haruki from training. He stared at Haruki from behind his mask until the man grudgingly answered him.

“Umino has no friends in the Hyuuga family,” he said. “Though I’m sure you’ve guessed that. I’m sure he’s already told you all about what a shithead I am, and that’s why you’re here wasting my time. But I’ll tell you one thing.” He leaned forwards and shoved a finger in Tenzou’s face. “If he said it was me, that time four years ago, you just tell him to prove it. And if he can’t, he’s got no business dragging my name through the mud.”

Now that was what Tenzou had been waiting for. His blood thrummed harder in his veins.

“What are you talking about? What happened between the two of you four years ago?”

Haruki leaned back out of Tenzou’s personal space, thrown for a moment that Tenzou didn’t already know. “Nothing happened. That’s what I’m saying. And now we’re done. I have three genin to whip into shape and some of us take pride in doing our jobs properly.”

He turned around and started walking away. Tenzou dearly wanted to stop him, by force if necessary, but he knew Haruki wouldn’t answer anything else willingly and he didn’t have any solid evidence he could use to arrest him.

Tenzou wanted Haruki to be the killer. He wanted it so much that it almost alarmed him. Aside from Haruki’s attitude, he had motive and opportunity. He had no alibi for any of the attacks, he fit the profile, he had enough pride and anger to want to protect his clan’s reputation, and he knew and apparently hated all of the victims. All Tenzou needed was some solid evidence, just a shred, and he could get a warrant to tear the Hyuuga compound apart in search of the blank ANBU mask that would condemn him.

What Tenzou wanted was to go straight to the hospital and speak to Iruka, but Sandaime had forbidden him from doing that today, and in any case, Tenzou was due to meet Kakashi in ten minutes. It pained him, but he could wait until tomorrow. Iruka had sufficient protection, and if Tenzou was worried he could always keep watch on the Hyuuga compound during the night.

Tenzou clenched down on his excitement and turned to head back towards Kakashi’s house. He was getting close. He could feel it.

  


* * *

  


Kakashi had left the wards down and door unlocked again. Tenzou let himself in, calling out to let Kakashi know who was coming into his house.

“Senpai, your door has a lock for a reason.”

Kakashi was making coffee in the kitchen. Tenzou laid his mask down on the counter.

“It’s fine. I fit the killer’s profile, remember, not the victims’.”

They moved into the lounge and sat down.

“Did you speak to Hiashi?”

“Yeah, but it could have gone better. I couldn’t tell how much Hiashi knew, or whether he thought his family was involved or not. He seemed to think Fujimoto might have had a personal connection to 3am, and that it might have something to do with her illegally checking out forbidden materials from the archives.”

Tenzou considered this. “Do you think it would help to get a list of everything she checked out?”

Kakashi shrugged. “I don’t see how knowing what she liked to read could help us find the person who caught her in the act. Assuming that’s what happened. But I was thinking, Fujimoto’s boyfriend was Himura Daiki, right? I remember him. He was ANBU, maybe still is – I’m sure you know his status. And genjutsu was his speciality. He’s a touch type. I didn’t really know him, but I remember because that’s pretty rare.”

Himura was indeed on the list, but Tenzou had already crossed off his name.

“Himura didn’t do it. He went blind six months ago and only regained his sight after Eri-san was killed.”

“He could have had an accomplice.”

Tenzou rolled his eyes. “By that logic, anyone could have done it.”

Kakashi pouted beneath the mask. Tenzou wondered if Kakashi knew how well he could read his expressions.

“Well, why don’t you share with the class if you have something so much better?”

“I know who took the mask from the ANBU equipment room, and I have a suspect.”

Kakashi leaned forwards. “Who?”

Tenzou paused. “Shit, I can’t tell you.”

“Seriously? You’re really going to do this to me?”

Kakashi groaned and collapsed back against the sofa. Tenzou felt a little embarrassed. He wanted to tell Kakashi, and he’d almost let it slip, but no matter how good Haruki looked for the murders, Tenzou couldn’t jump the gun.

“Well, what about the person who took the mask? Could they be an accomplice?”

“I think he was under a genjutsu. He used his own pass code and didn’t even try to hide his face from the camera. The real killer was probably trying to frame him, and if Iruka-sensei hadn’t survived and told us about the genjutsu, I’d have probably arrested him tomorrow when whoever’s on stock take had found the evidence.”

“Yeah, that does sound too obvious. Can you give me a basic run-down of why you suspect the other guy?”

That Tenzou could do. “No alibi, didn’t get on well with any of the victims.” A thought struck him. “Actually, he said some things I need to follow up with Iruka-sensei, but maybe you can help me out. Do you know why there’d be bad blood between Iruka-sensei and the Hyuuga clan?”

Kakashi considered it. “I know Iruka-sensei doesn’t like them, but I’ve never asked why. If I had to guess, it would be because they try to make their kids grow up too quickly. That’s a sure fire way to get on Iruka’s bad side.”

Tenzou noted the disappearance of Iruka’s honourific.

“So you don’t know anything about an incident that happened four years ago?”

Kakashi looked at him sharply. “What kind of incident?”

“I don’t know. I think something happened between Iruka-sensei and my suspect, but he didn’t elaborate.”

“Wait, you think this guy might have hurt Iruka before?” Kakashi’s chakra crackled dangerously. “Who the fuck is he, Tenzou?”

“You know I can’t tell you.”

“How am I supposed to help Iruka if you won’t tell me who did it?” Kakashi was shouting now. His hands were gripping his thighs, digging his fingers into the skin.

Tenzou wasn’t offended by Kakashi taking out his frustration on him. He eyed Kakashi as though if he tried hard enough, he could read the thoughts hidden under his skin.

“Iruka-sensei is very important to you, isn’t he?” he asked softly.

Kakashi’s chakra settled back down as the fight drained out of him.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “Tenzou, when I thought he was dead...” He couldn’t finish, but Tenzou nodded. He understood.

“The next time you see him, you should tell him,” Tenzou said. “Tell him how much he means to you.”

Kakashi rested his head on the back of the sofa, looking suddenly tired. “Yeah. Yeah, maybe I will.”


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the first chapter, I estimated that this fic would be 60-70K. I'm now at about 63K and I can tell you I was completely wrong, it's going to be longer. The end is in sight but there's still a lot of ground to cover to get there. I'm not even going to try and make a new estimate, I'm too rubbish at it. There'll be more than eleven chapters, though - that's for definite.

Iruka felt his muscles tense as the ANBU walked into the room. He’d spent the night waking to visions of that smooth, white mask, and even Naruto’s presence on the futon beside him hadn’t made him feel much safer. The presence of the ANBU guard, ghostlike outside the door, had caused his heart to beat hard in his chest and a cold sweat to break out on his forehead. It was better now that the sun had risen, but Iruka couldn’t help but lean further back into the pillows as the ANBU investigator sat down in one of the chairs next to his bed.

Iruka recognised the mask. This was the ANBU who had spoken to him after Akane’s death, asking about the chakra repressing seals he’d found on the walls of the crime scene. Cat, as he’d introduced himself, had been polite and appreciative of Iruka’s help. Iruka wanted to believe that he was a good person.

“I hope my mask doesn’t make you too uncomfortable,” Cat said. Was Iruka really that obvious?

“No, it’s fine.”

“If it makes you feel any better, your genjutsu is probably better than mine.”

Iruka smiled. He had no idea whether Cat was lying, but the fact that he was making a joke made Iruka relax a little. Through the closed door, he could hear Naruto chatting to the ANBU guard. It sounded like the conversation was fairly one-sided, but Naruto didn’t seem to mind. He hadn’t wanted to leave at first, but then Cat had mentioned that he’d spoken to Kakashi – he’d used Kakashi’s first name without honourific, as though they were friends – and Naruto had decided that if Kakashi trusted this ANBU, he would too.

“Sandaime already told me what you said about the night you were attacked,” Cat said, “so I won’t ask you to repeat yourself. If you’ve remembered anything you didn’t mention to him, please tell me, otherwise I won’t ask you about that night.”

Iruka’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Thank you.”

Cat pulled a notebook out of a pocket and rested it on his lap. “Iruka-sensei, do you know Hyuuga Haruki?”

Well, that hadn’t been what Iruka was expecting. “We’ve met,” he said shortly.

“Can I ask how you know him?”

Iruka tugged on a strand of hair and frowned. “You probably know that four years ago a minimum graduation age was introduced to the Academy.” Cat nodded. “I’m the one who pushed that through. It made me a lot of enemies, including the Hyuuga clan. Neji, from one of the branch houses, was at the Academy at the time and they were trying to graduate him early.”

Cat cocked his head to the side. “I’d have thought you were too young to be involved in that.”

Iruka rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I was nineteen. It was my first year of teaching.”

He couldn’t see Cat’s face, but he thought there was a subtle change in Cat’s body language that indicated approval.

“I take it Haruki-san was vocal in disagreeing with you?”

“Very. He confronted me on a couple of occasions and tried to intimidate me.” Iruka hesitated. “There was one time in particular that went too far, but I don’t know if I should mention it. I think it was him, but I can’t be sure.”

Cat leaned forwards minutely. “What happened?”

“Someone was waiting for me by my apartment. I was coming home late after seeing some friends, and he ambushed me by my front door. I didn’t see his face. He caught me in a genjutsu and made me think I was drowning. By the time I broke free, he’d already gone.”

“Did you report it to ANBU?”

“Of course, but they could never prove who did it.” Iruka could hear the bitterness in his voice. He hadn’t thought about that attack for a long time. At the time, he’d been so angry, not only because a shinobi who should have been his ally had crossed the line and physically attacked him, but also because he couldn’t understand why anyone would go to such lengths to stop him from protecting their children.

“Why did you think it was Haruki-san?”

“Because he’d threatened me before. And he avoided me after the attack, like maybe he realised he’d gone too far, or perhaps because he didn’t want to give himself away and get arrested.”

Cat wrote something down. “Changing the subject, did you know Fujimoto Akane or Hyuuga Eri?”

“I knew Akane-san, though not outside of work. Mission records and reports go down to the archives, and sometimes I’d see her if I was taking them downstairs. I knew Eri-san very casually. We had friends in common from the seals community and I sometimes saw her at research seminars.”

“The seals community?”

It always amazed Iruka how little some people knew about their own village. “There aren’t many shinobi in Konoha that specialise in seals. It takes a lot of dedication to become advanced because of the amount of time you need to spend studying and honing your chakra control. So those of us who consider ourselves specialists keep in contact and share new theories and techniques, or sometimes get someone with a different style to test out research.”

“A different style?”

Iruka was aware he was starting to lecture, but Cat seemed genuinely interested, so he let himself teach. “When a seals user gets to a certain level, he’ll develop his own style. If you asked me and my current research partner to draw a basic barrier seal, for example, we’d both draw the same symbols but in quite different ways. The length and thickness of the strokes, the placement on the chakra pathways, those kind of small things would be different. The combination of differences makes a unique signature, so that sometimes you can even tell who made a seal just from looking at it.”

Cat made another note and then pulled a sealing scroll from his pouch and opened it. A manila folder slid out, and Cat took out three pieces of paper and laid them on the bed in front of Iruka, who recognised them as the chakra suppressing seals Cat had shown him before.

“Iruka-sensei, do you recognise a signature in these seals?”

Iruka leaned forward and studied the seals. Cat waited patiently while he picked each one up in turn and scrutinised the details.

“I’m sorry, I can’t tell you who drew these,” he said at last. “But I can tell you they were all drawn by the same person.”

“What else?”

Iruka traced the lines inked onto the chakra paper. “These were drawn by someone trying to hide their style. At first glance it looks basic, like someone with no real training, but the strokes are too considered for a basic user. This person has a background in calligraphy, and this paper’s higher quality than the stuff you can buy ten a penny at the shinobi supply store. Only professionals see the value in buying the more expensive kind.”

Cat took back the seals and replaced them in the folder. “Could you write me a list of advanced seals users?”

“I could,” Iruka said slowly, “but you might be better off asking Nara Kaede. She’s a researcher and medic here at the hospital and she organises a lot of the seminars and meetings so she probably has a list of names she sends the invitations to.” An idea struck him. “Oh, and whoever used the chakra repressing seal probably found it in the same book I used to research it. If you ask at the archives they can give you a list of everyone who checked it out recently.”

“That’s a good idea. You know, Iruka-sensei, you might be better at this than my current assistant. It’s a shame I can’t hire you instead.” Iruka felt himself blush. Cat put his folder and notebook away and stood up. “Thank you, Iruka-sensei, you’ve been extremely helpful. I’m sorry to have bombarded you with questions when you should be recovering.”

“Please don’t apologise. Actually.” Iruka looked away, embarrassed. “Actually, I feel reassured after talking to you. About ANBU, I mean. I’ve been finding it hard to feel safe, but I know that’s unfair to all of you who are working hard to catch the person who hurt me. And it must be hard for you too, knowing the killer might be someone you trust.” He bit his lip and looked at Cat. “I really hope it isn’t someone you know.”

Cat looked at him for a moment, and Iruka wished he knew what expression was hiding behind that mask.

“I can see why Kakashi likes you,” Cat said eventually. “Which reminds me.”

He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Iruka.

“Kakashi asked me to give you this.”

Iruka took the paper. His name was written on it in Kakashi’s spiky scrawl.

“Are you a friend of his?”

“I suppose I must be,” Cat mused in the same exasperated tone Iruka often used with Kakashi. “Considering the amount I put up with him.”

When Cat had gone, Iruka opened the paper and read the scribbled note.

_I’m sorry I didn’t come back after I left yesterday. I want to come and see you but I can’t for a while. You see, a princess was attacked by a monster and a sarcastic wood spirit told me I was destined to slay it, so I’ve been a little busy with that. But I promise I’ll come and visit as soon as I can._

The note was signed with Kakashi’s signature henohenomoheji.

Iruka laughed and stroked a thumb over the paper.

“Call me a princess to my face,” he murmured. “I miss you too, you idiot.”

  


* * *

  


After leaving Iruka’s room, Tenzou asked a nurse where he could find Nara Kaede, and was directed to an office in the research centre, which turned out to be a small building at the back of the hospital. Kaede’s name was on the door of the office at the end of a corridor, and a voice called for him to enter when he knocked.

A red-haired kunoichi looked up from her desk and looked startled to see an ANBU in her doorway.

“Nara Kaede-sensei?”

“Yes, that’s me. Please come and take a seat.”

Kaede hurried around the desk to remove a pile of books from the chair and glanced around a little helplessly for somewhere to put them, settling on a patch of floor space that wasn’t otherwise occupied by scrolls, filing cabinets or other books.

“Sorry about the mess,” she said. “How can I help you?”

Tenzou sat down and eyed the paperwork that was almost spilling off the desk. He was careful not to touch it in case he caused an avalanche.

“I’m interested in advanced seals users in the village and Iruka-sensei told me you might be able to give me a list of names.”

Kaede hesitated, obviously wondering why an ANBU would be interested in the seals community. “Yes, I have one somewhere. Give me a minute to find it.”

She started opening her desk drawers and rooting around. Tenzou wondered how she could keep track of anything in this room. He’d seen his fair share of untidy offices, but this was something else.

“Can I ask why you’re interested in seals experts?” Kaede said. “If you’re looking for someone who specialises in something specific, I can probably point you in the right direction.”

“Thank you, but –” Tenzou started to decline the offer, but then reconsidered. “Do you know if anyone’s interested in seals related to manipulating chakra flow? Enhancing it, repressing it, that sort of thing.”

Kaede’s hands paused in rummaging through her bottom drawer. She was bent over and Tenzou couldn’t see her face, but he heard her tap her finger on the desk as she thought.

“No one especially comes to mind,” she said. “Of course, a lot of projects might involve chakra manipulation as a minor part of the overall process. It’s quite common to consider chakra flow in medical seals, for example, because chakra has an active role in the healing process. That’s why shinobi heal faster than civilians and can take more physical damage with fewer lasting effects.”

Tenzou hummed in acknowledgement. Between Iruka and Kaede, he was learning a lot today.

Kaede finally straightened up again with a sheet of paper in her hands. “Here’s my list. Do you mind if I photocopy it for you? I’ll need to keep the original.”

While she was out of the room, Tenzou idly scanned the titles of the books crammed into her bookshelves. Most of the titles were so packed with medical terminology that he couldn’t begin to guess at what Kaede’s specialism was. Giving up, he turned back towards the desk, but noticed as he did a scroll resting by his foot. It looked as though it had rolled under the desk from the other side, and Tenzou picked it up with the intention of putting it somewhere it wouldn’t get stepped on.

The name on the scroll made him pause. It was a sealing scroll, and the name written in beautiful calligraphy down the parchment was Umino Iruka.

“Here you go, sorry for keeping you waiting.” Kaede had come back into the room. She stopped when she noticed the scroll in Tenzou’s hand. “That was in my drawer.”

She thought he had been rooting through her things. Tenzou put it back on the desk, abashed. “It was on the floor. You must have dropped it earlier.”

Kaede didn’t move. She looked unconvinced.

“Are you Iruka-sensei’s research partner?” Tenzou asked, trying to dissolve the tension.

“Currently, yes. But I’m afraid our project is classified so I can’t give you the details.”

She held out the list of names, which Tenzou took and folded into his notebook.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, ANBU-san?”

“No, that’s all I needed. Thank you for your time.”

As Tenzou left the room, he considered, not for the first time, that it was difficult to gain someone’s trust when you wore a mask and had no name.

  


* * *

  


That morning, Kakashi felt frustrated, guilty at being frustrated, and a new-found appreciation for his couch. He was currently at the training grounds with Sasuke and Sakura, watching them attempt to climb trees using only their hands – which was much harder than only using feet – and wishing he was chasing down 3am instead. Unfortunately, Tenzou didn’t have anything he could do at the moment, and Sasuke had insisted that he owed them a training session. The thing about Sasuke sleeping at his house also meant that he was present to give Kakashi that disapproving stare – which was oddly reminiscent of Iruka – until he gave in and did what he was told.

Last night, Kakashi had let Sasuke sleep in his bed, along with Bisuke, just for good measure. Sasuke had looked doubtful about letting a dog sleep with him in the bed, but when Kakashi had peeked in on them in the morning, he’d found them sleeping huddled up together. Kakashi, meanwhile, had slept on the couch, which had turned out to be surprisingly comfortable. The armrests were the perfect height and softness for him to use as a pillow, and the simple fact that he’d woken without a crick in his neck had put him in a good mood until Tenzou had dropped by and told him to take the morning off.

As Sasuke tumbled back to the ground for the umpteenth time, Sakura following shortly afterwards, Kakashi took pity on them.

“Why don’t we take a break for a while?”

“Finally,” Sakura muttered, hauling herself up to sit back against the tree. Sasuke mimicked her.

“You’re both improving very well. Especially Sakura, although I think she had an unfair advantage since she could already do a handstand.”

Sakura shrugged modestly and Sasuke glared at her.

“Kakashi-sensei,” Sakura said after a moment, “we wanted to ask you about something.”

“When were you going to tell us you nominated us for the chuunin exams?” Sasuke said.

Oh, shit. Kakashi knew he’d forgotten something.

“Did Iruka-sensei mention that to you?”

Sakura nodded. “But Naruto said he wasn’t going to enter because he wants to take care of Iruka-sensei. So it’ll just be me and Sasuke-kun.”

Kakashi hesitated, and then sat down cross-legged in front of them. They weren’t going to like this. “Unfortunately, you can only enter the chuunin exam in a three man team. If Naruto drops out, you all do.”

This was clearly news to his students. Why hadn’t Iruka given them this talk? Then Kakashi wouldn’t have to. Clearly Iruka hadn’t wanted to rock the boat either.

“So you’re saying we all enter or none of us do,” Sasuke said. He was scowling. “Can’t we find someone else to replace Naruto on our team?”

“Doubtful. You don’t get many lone genin searching for a team to latch onto. Especially since the exams start in three days. I’m not sure you’d even be allowed to change members. Basically, it’s Naruto or no one.”

Sakura had been tugging at a strand of hair, but now she relaxed.

“Then I guess we’ll have to wait until next year too.”

Sasuke looked downright betrayed. “What? Why? We’ll just convince Naruto to join with us. If we tell him he’s bringing us down with him, maybe he’ll change his mind. It’s not like Iruka-sensei needs him when he has an ANBU guard.”

“Why is what you want more important than what Naruto wants?” Sakura argued. Kakashi stared at her. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her take Naruto’s side over Sasuke’s before. Sasuke seemed similarly stunned. “Kakashi-sensei, is it at all likely that we’d make chuunin this year if we did take the exams?”

“Not really,” Kakashi admitted. “Your competition will all be older and more experienced. That doesn’t make them stronger or smarter than you, but considering how few people pass the exams each year, it doesn’t exactly help your chances.”

“If you don’t think we can do it then why did you nominate us?” Sasuke snapped.

“Because you can only learn so much from C class missions and training exercises. The chuunin exams would allow you to gain real combat experience under controlled conditions.” Kakashi leaned his elbow on his knee and rested his chin in his hand. “You know, my original plan was to not let you know about the team requirement. That way, you’d only show up to the exam registration if you wanted to do it for yourselves, without any pressure from the other two. The chuunin exams might be safer than facing real enemies like Zabuza, but they’re still dangerous. If you go in half-heartedly, you might end up getting seriously hurt, or even killed.”

Sakura turned to Sasuke with her I told you so face. “Naruto wouldn’t last five minutes if he was worried about Iruka-sensei. You know what he’s like when he’s distracted.”

“And if he failed, the whole team would fail,” Kakashi added. “Even if you don’t care how Naruto feels, strategically it’s also a bad decision to force him to enter with you.”

Sasuke bristled. “I didn’t say I don’t care how he feels.”

Kakashi smiled behind his mask. “I know. I was speaking hypothetically. You know, Iruka-sensei is more than a former teacher to Naruto. He’s the closest thing Naruto has to family.”

“He’s not the closest thing,” Sasuke mumbled, staring at the ground. “They are family.” There was a note of jealous longing in his voice that made Kakashi’s heart clench. Kakashi knew that feeling too. Whenever he saw Iruka with Naruto, he was reminded of Minato, who’d taken over bringing him up once his parents had died. Sasuke didn’t have anyone to fulfil that caregiver role, and part of Kakashi wanted to step into the space left by Sasuke’s parents, but the larger, louder part of him couldn’t see any way he could raise a child without fucking them up.

“It’s fine,” Sasuke said suddenly, glancing up to grudgingly meet Kakashi’s eye. “We’ll do the exams next year. Naruto’s not ready anyway, he’d just embarrass us and fail us all with him.”

Sakura beamed at him, and Kakashi felt oddly fond of all three of them, or rather he suddenly became aware of the fondness that was always there these days but rarely acknowledged.

He was about to suggest they head back into town and get some lunch when a masked figure slipped out of the tree line at the training field’s edge.

“When you’ve finished training,” Tenzou said, “I have something I’d like you to do for me.”

  


* * *

  


Tenzou had dropped by the archives again before tracking down Kakashi, and had obtained a list of people who’d recently checked out the book containing the chakra repressing seal. Then he’d passed that to Kakashi, as well as the list of seals users Kaede had given him, and asked Kakashi to compare and follow up on anyone whose name appeared on both lists, or whose name had appeared elsewhere in the investigation. Later, when he had more time, Tenzou would compare the lists with the ANBU who fit the profile, but right now he had a date at the morgue.

Kakashi had tipped him off that a body had been found yesterday, and that there was a slight chance it was related to the 3am killings. The autopsy had been scheduled for that morning, and Tenzou wanted to at least check the preliminary findings.

The morgue was in the basement of the hospital: a rabbit warren of dingy corridors and buzzing fluorescent bulbs, populated by medics with grim faces and blood-stained overalls. Tenzou made his way to the autopsy room and knocked before stepping inside.

The stench made him glad he was wearing a mask, although it wasn’t enough to completely filter the scent of decay. The medic who glanced up when he entered the room had a surgical mask hanging around his neck and seemed unbothered by the smell. He was perhaps in his early fifties and had probably been doing this job for a long time. Tenzou couldn’t imagine dealing with the dead so much he got used to it.

“Another ANBU?” the medic said, looking surprised to see Tenzou. There was a name tag on his overalls that proclaimed his name was Honda Ryo. “I had one of your colleagues in here during the autopsy. I’m afraid you’ve missed the fun part; I was just finishing up.”

“I’m only interested in the results,” Tenzou said, eyeing the corpse with distaste. If he had to be around bodies, he preferred them to be fresher.

“Well, I can give you a quick run-down now if you’d like.”

The quicker the better, then Tenzou could leave. “Please.”

“The victim is a so-far unidentified male, late thirties, with no identifying birthmarks or tattoos, although there is a large scar on the right thigh.” Honda pointed to a white mark that tracked a curve from the hip to the knee. “Cause of death was blood loss after being stabbed through the abdomen with what looks like a short sword. The victim was stabbed with such force that the weapon came out through his back, impaling him. The blade nicked the abdominal aorta and chipped the spine. Not very pleasant, but quick. He would have bled out within minutes.”

“Did you do the autopsies on the 3am victims?” Tenzou asked. He’d seen both Eri’s and Akane’s bodies at the crime scenes and so had been content to wait for the autopsy reports to make their way to his desk without visiting the morgue. The reports hadn’t told him anything that had surprised him and he’d had no reason to speak to the medic who’d written them.

“Yes, I did, and I know what you’re going to ask.” Honda looked critically at the naked body below him. “The wound is similarly positioned, although a little higher above the navel than on the two women. There are also similar marks around the wrists and ankles where the victim was bound, possibly with chakra wire, although the restraints were removed before burial so I can’t be sure about that. Like the 3am bodies, there’s also a surprising lack of defensive wounds, meaning the victim didn’t try to fight back.”

“Do you know if he was shinobi or civilian?”

“He was wearing a shinobi uniform, although the hitae-ate was missing and the vest had been emptied of weapons.”

Tenzou felt his eyes drawn inexorably to the dead man’s face, and especially to the gaping eye sockets.

“What happened to his eyes?”

“The body was buried in the forest for approximately two to three weeks before being found. Insect activity was considerable. They’d burrowed all the way to the brain. Took ages to flush them all out.”

Tenzou repressed a shudder. The ruined face would make it more difficult to identify the body, but whichever ANBU was leading the case would already be working on that.

“In your professional opinion, would you say this man was killed by The 3am Killer?”

Honda sighed and reached up to scratch his head before remembering he was still wearing blood-soaked latex gloves.

“It’s hard to say. The MO is very similar, except for the fact that the body was hidden, but stabbing is a fairly common fatal injury for a shinobi, and restraining an enemy with chakra wire is such common sense that even a genin would think of it. But considering the time frame, if this is one of 3am’s kills, it’s probably his first.”

So that was a maybe. Tenzou had been hoping for any answer except maybe.

“Could you send me a copy of the autopsy report?”

“Sure. I’ll have a preliminary report done by tomorrow.”

Hopefully whoever was leading the case would identify the victim before then. Once Tenzou had a name, he’d be able to look into whether there was a connection between this body and the 3am victims, but until then, there was no point potentially wasting his time. As he left the morgue and emerged back into daylight and the smell of antiseptic, he allowed his shoulders to slump in relief and a small sigh to escape his lips. Breathing had never tasted so good.

  


* * *

  


After lunch, Kakashi walked Sasuke and Sakura to the hospital so they could visit Iruka and Naruto, and then found a nice perch on a rooftop near the Hokage Tower where he could look through the lists Tenzou had given him.

He couldn’t help but think this would be much easier if he knew which names fit the killer’s profile, but he’d given up pestering Tenzou to ‘accidentally’ leave his list lying around where Kakashi might happen to glance at it with his sharingan. Not that he’d really thought Tenzou could be persuaded to break the law, but it had been worth a try.

Kakashi pulled up his hitae-ate and used the sharingan to memorise the list of seals users. None of the names jumped out at him except Iruka’s and Eri’s. Then he unfolded the list of people who’d checked out the book with the chakra repressing seal and compared.

It was a much shorter list, dating back six months and only including seven entries. Iruka’s name was the most recent, but Tenzou had told him to expect that. Aside from Iruka, there was one more match, which appeared not once, but twice, having checked the book out three and a half months ago, and then again five days before Akane had been killed. The person who’d checked out the book was Nara Kaede.

Kakashi put the papers away and stared down towards the people passing through the square below him. Tenzou had briefly mentioned that he’d got the list of seals users from Kaede, who was apparently a medic and Iruka’s research partner on some project. Kaede definitely didn’t fit the killer’s profile, being the wrong gender and in the wrong profession, but she was connected to two out of three victims through the seals community. Kakashi wondered if she’d known Akane.

As luck would have it, he suddenly caught sight of Himura Daiki coming out of the Hokage Tower. Kakashi scaled down the side of the building and emerged casually into the square. Himura must have felt his gaze, because he stopped walking and looked up as Kakashi approached.

“Yo, Himura. It’s been a while.”

Himura smiled, and Kakashi tried not to stare at the seals inked around his eyes.

“It’s OK,” Himura said. “Everyone’s been staring at me today. Maybe I should take a leaf out of your book and start wearing a mask.”

“Surprisingly, it doesn’t stop the stares. Can’t think why.”

Kakashi didn’t know Himura all that well, despite the fact that they were around the same age and had been ANBU at the same time. Their shift rotas hadn’t often coincided, and Kakashi could only remember a handful of times they’d worked together. He’d barely seen or spoken to Himura since he’d quit ANBU, but Himura didn’t seem hard to talk to.

“How are your eyes? I heard from Tenzou that you got them fixed.”

“Practically good as new,” Himura said. “I’ve actually just submitted a request for a return to active duty.”

“Well, good luck. By the way, I wanted to ask you a couple of things. Do you have a spare five minutes?”

Himura blinked at him, clearly wondering why Kakashi was suddenly interested in him after months of zero contact. “Yeah, I guess so. Do you want to go somewhere a little quieter?”

Kakashi thumbed towards the rooftop he’d just vacated. “I won’t keep you long, but how about we get off the street?”

When they were both standing near the edge of the roof and Kakashi was sure no ANBU were lurking nearby, he ditched the small talk and started asking questions.

“Do you know a medic called Nara Kaede?”

“Sure,” Himura replied, nonplussed. “She’s the one who performed my transplant.”

It was almost too perfect. Tenzou had better treat him to a meal or something for this.

“What was your impression of her?”

Himura considered it. “She’s very dedicated to her job. She spent a few weeks researching seals for my eyes and then came with me to Hyuuga-san’s tattoo shop to make sure everything was done right. Transplanting the whole eye isn’t exactly a normal procedure, so it took a lot of time and effort on her part.”

“Did she ever meet Fujimoto-san?”

“Yes, Akane’s the one who initially spoke to her about possible treatments for my eyes. Akane never gave up on helping me, even when I’d given up on ever seeing again.” A small pained look crossed his face, and then was gone. “Hatake, why are you asking me about Nara-sensei? Are you working with Tenzou?”

“No, but I am looking into The 3am Killer. Iruka-sensei, the latest victim, is a friend of mine.”

Himura nodded. Kakashi had half expected the same disapproving look that Tenzou had given him, but he supposed Himura had also cared about someone that 3am had hurt, so maybe he understood the need to act.

“I’ve never met Umino-sensei, but I heard about the attack. How is he?”

“Doing much better. He should be released from the hospital in a couple of days.”

“That’s good to hear. Listen, Hatake, I know Tenzou would say I’ve got no business asking after the case, but since you have a personal interest too, can you tell me why you’re asking about Nara-sensei? Do you think she killed Akane?”

He was staring at Kakashi intently. Kakashi hesitated, unsure what to say. He couldn’t go around telling anyone who asked about the case, especially classified details like the ANBU status of the killer, but at the same time he didn’t want to brush Himura off like his pain was worth less than Kakashi’s.

“I don’t think she’s 3am,” he eventually said. “Honestly, Himura, I have no idea who the bastard is yet, but I’ve got a lot of leads to chase up and I think Nara-sensei might be one of them. That doesn’t mean she knows anything about the murders. At this point she’s just someone I want to speak to.”

Himura nodded slowly. “I know this is a lot to ask, but if you find out she had something to do with it, will you tell me?”

Kakashi would do no such thing. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I know I have no business investigating this either, but if I find anything, I’m going to take it straight to Tenzou. This has to be done right,” he said firmly. 

He wished he knew who he was trying to convince: Himura or himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is tagged as AU canon divergence because if Team Seven don't participate in the chuunin exams - well, you can imagine the impact that would have on canon. This fic isn't going to extrapolate on how it'll affect Naruto &co though, simply because that's way beyond the scope of what I'm doing here. But it's interesting to think about.


	7. Chapter Seven

It was difficult for Kakashi to walk through the hospital, knowing that Iruka was within reach but off limits until Kakashi could remove his name from the suspects list. He imagined there was probably an ANBU somewhere on the hospital grounds watching him, who might swoop in and deter him if he so much as tried to enter the wing where Iruka was staying. Luckily, after asking at the main reception, Kakashi discovered that Kaede was currently working from her office in the research building, and he didn’t catch sight of a single white mask as he entered the building through a small side door.

Kaede was in her office when he knocked. Kakashi vaguely recognised her – he’d been in and out of the hospital enough to recognise most of the medics – but couldn’t recall whether she usually looked as stressed as she seemed when he opened the door. There were dark bags under her eyes and her hair was in disarray from passing her hand through it one too many times.

“Hatake-san, please come in,” she said, leaning back from where she’d been poring over half a dozen papers at her desk. Kakashi wasn’t surprised that she knew who he was. Most people in the village knew his name.

“Sorry to disturb you,” Kakashi said. Kaede gestured to the seat across from her and Kakashi sat down. “I’m a friend of Himura Daiki’s. I was speaking to him earlier and he said you were the medic who treated his eyes.”

“Yes, that’s right.” Kaede was looking at Kakashi’s hitae-ate. Just as everyone knew his name, they all knew about his sharingan, including the fact that he couldn’t switch it off. “Are you here to ask about a seal that could help you control your eye?”

Kakashi certainly wasn’t going to turn down such a perfect cover story. “Maa, sensei, you’re pretty sharp. I was hoping you’d know of a way to restrict the chakra flow to my sharingan and force it to turn off when I wasn’t using it.”

Kaede sat back and tapped her bottom lip with a pen. “It would be tricky, but potentially not impossible.”

“I thought of asking you since technically my eye is a transplant like Himura’s. What exactly does his seal do?”

“It’s not something that could help you,” Kaede said. “I used it to ensure the new eyes weren’t rejected, which requires a permanent change to the nature of the chakra flow in Himura-san’s face. I won’t bore you with the details, but your body clearly hasn’t rejected the transplant, either because you were a match to the donor or because of some properties related to the Uchiha bloodline limit.”

They were starting to get off topic. This wasn’t really about Kakashi, although he couldn’t help but be intrigued by the notion that a seal could really help him. “The real problem is that the sharingan drains my chakra by force and I can’t do anything to stop it,” Kakashi said. “Do you know anything about using seals to repress the chakra?”

“Oh, that’s perfectly possible,” Kaede said. “I’ve actually done a little research on that topic recently. The trouble is that if I repress the chakra around your eye, it might cause your body to reject the eye completely. Really, I’d need to do some research into the sharingan itself, but the Uchiha library is still locked up in their compound and there’s no official clan leader anymore to grant access.”

“Uchiha Sasuke is one of my students,” Kakashi said. “I’m sure I could work something out. So assuming you can access the research material –”

“Really?” Kaede had sat up ramrod straight, her eyes wide. “You could get me access to the Uchiha scrolls?” Kakashi stared at her. “I’m sorry, it’s just something like a lost treasure to researchers like me,” Kaede said. “It’s been completely inaccessible for so many years, but they were such a longstanding and powerful clan that their library must contain essential resources. Just thinking of all that knowledge locked away is so frustrating.”

Kakashi was taken aback by how passionate she’d suddenly become. It was like a switch had been flipped. “Well, assuming that I could get you access to the library, would you be able to design a seal?”

Kaede picked a piece of chakra paper off the messy pile almost falling off the edge of her desk. “Let’s see. Disregarding the problems with the sharingan, we’d need to target the chakra pathways around the eyes.” She started sketching symbols on the paper. “It would have to be a trigger seal, of course, so you could re-introduce chakra to switch the sharingan on.”

“What’s a trigger seal?” Kakashi asked, interested despite himself.

“A seal that can be turned on or off using a simple jutsu,” Kaede said distractedly. “I’d need to fiddle around with the exact strength of the chakra repression, of course, because if I cut your chakra flow off completely you’d go blind.”

“Sounds like you really know your seals,” Kakashi said. “I once spoke to someone else about getting a seal but he said chakra repression is difficult.” He hoped that was somewhat true. It would be embarrassing if he was caught out in his bluff.

“It’s not difficult, generally speaking, but it’s restricted knowledge,” Kaede said. “Who did you speak to?”

“Umino Iruka,” Kakashi said, choosing the first seals user that popped into his head.

Kaede paused and glanced up at him. “You know Iruka-sensei?”

“Yeah, we’re friends. You too, Nara-sensei?”

“We’ve been working together recently.”

“Oh, really? Though I imagine it’s not rare for seals researchers to know each other. It must be difficult for you all recently, though, after what happened to Iruka-sensei and Eri-san.”

Kaede had stopped drawing and was staring at her seal. “Yes, it’s been awful.”

“Ah, and since you operated on Himura you must have met Fujimoto-san too.”

“No,” Kaede said flatly. “We never met.”

Interesting. Himura had told Kakashi that Akane was the one who’d approached Kaede. So why was Kaede lying about it?

“Did you know Eri-san well?”

“Not particularly. Hatake-san, based on this preliminary sketch, I’d say that it’s definitely possible to create a seal for your eye, but I can’t say for sure until I’ve done some research on the sharingan. If you could let me know when you’ve looked into getting me access to the Uchiha library, I can start studying properly then.”

Apparently the conversation was over. Kaede didn’t want to talk about the murders. “Of course,” Kakashi said. “But could I take a look at the seal you just drew?”

Kaede passed it across the desk to him. “The final product will probably look very different,” she said, but Kakashi was no longer listening. Among the symbols on the chakra paper was the shape of the chakra repressing seal he’d seen in Iruka’s apartment two days ago. He’d known she’d had the book containing it, but now he had proof that she’d not only looked at that specific seal, but had it memorised.

Kakashi lifted his hitae-ate and stared at the seal with the sharingan so he’d be able to reproduce it later and show Tenzou. Kaede looked at his eye a little nervously.

“What are you doing?”

“Maa, it’s always better to look at something with both eyes, wouldn’t you agree?”

Kaede stared at him, nonplussed, as Kakashi handed back the seal and replaced his hitae-ate.

“Thanks so much for looking into this, Nara-sensei, I really appreciate it.” Kakashi stood up and turned to leave. “I’ll be back in touch as soon as I can.”

  


* * *

  


The ANBU offices were fairly empty, but Tenzou found Kawaguchi in the open plan main office, sitting at one of the desks and leaning back in his chair while he frowned at something on the computer screen.

“Kawaguchi,” Tenzou greeted as he took a seat beside him. “I heard you got the Forest of Death body.”

Kawaguchi rocked further back on his chair and cast him an exasperated look. “Yeah, lucky me. You know what I have to go on right now? A big fat nothing, that’s what. I’m trying to identify the body, but that’s not exactly easy when half his face has been eaten away. Oh, and before you ask, I got a new pass code.”

“Good. Let me know if anything else happens.”

“I didn’t even know something had happened the first time until you told me.” Sighing, he let the chair thump back down onto all four legs. “So spit it out, what do you need me for now?”

Tenzou glanced at the computer screen. Kawaguchi was looking through missing person reports.

“There’s a small possibility our cases our connected.”

“Well, fuck,” Kawaguchi said. “I’ve had this case for twenty-four hours and you’re already trying to steal it from me? Not cool, Tenzou.”

Tenzou rolled his eyes. “No, you keep it. I can’t prove anything until you ID the victim anyway. But when you do, could you let me know? Especially if you can find a connection between your victim and mine.”

“Getting me to do your legwork for you, huh?”

“Kawaguchi, do you want me to steal your case or not? Because I honestly can’t tell.”

Kawaguchi leaned an elbow on the desk and laid his head on his hand. “Don’t steal it. I was meant to be doing a shift as Tadaomi’s admin slave tomorrow, but as long as I have this case, I can pass it off to some other sucker. You know, when I signed up for ANBU, no one mentioned the paper cuts.”

Tenzou nodded seriously. The paper cuts were no laughing matter. He was about to leave, when he remembered he’d wanted to ask Kawaguchi something else. “By the way, do you know Hyuuga Haruki?”

“Yeah, he’s a prick,” Kawaguchi said. “But he’s my niece’s jounin-sensei, so I have to see him more often than I’d like.”

So not only was Haruki connected to all three victims, but to Kawaguchi as well. It still wasn’t enough for a warrant, not while he couldn’t say for sure that Haruki had previously attacked Iruka, but Tenzou could feel the puzzle pieces slotting into place. He just needed one piece of solid evidence and he could turn the Hyuuga compound upside down.

“Why are you asking about him?” Kawaguchi asked. “Or can’t you tell me that?”

“I’ll tell you if we need to combine cases,” Tenzou said. “Remember to let me know when you’ve figured out who your victim is.”

“Yes, sir,” Kawaguchi mumbled, and Tenzou left him to it.

 

Kakashi was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairwell. Tenzou only had chance to ask, “Kakashi, what –?” before Kakashi had grabbed his arm and propelled him around the corner and into an empty meeting room.

“Hi to you too,” Tenzou grumbled, rubbing his arm.

“Nara Kaede is involved,” Kakashi said in a low rush. “I don’t know how, but I’m almost sure of it.”

“Nara-sensei?” Tenzou frowned and then remembered Kakashi couldn’t see his expression beneath the mask. “Had she checked out the book with the forbidden seal?”

“Yes, twice in the last four months, most recently a few days before Fujimoto died. And she has links to all three of the victims. She’s the one who operated on Himura’s eyes. I spoke to him and he said Fujimoto was the one who approached Nara, but when I spoke to Nara, she lied and said they’d never met. Why would she say that unless she had something to hide? And then I fed her some bullshit about wanting her to fix my eye and she drew this.”

Kakashi thrust a piece of paper in Tenzou’s face. It was a crude sketch of a seal, drawn on normal paper without the chakra pathways, but Tenzou recognised the shape of the chakra repressing seal from the crime scenes.

“Did she say why she’d been researching this seal?”

“I didn’t ask, but she mentioned she’d been researching chakra repression recently. She didn’t say why.”

Tenzou took the piece of paper from Kakashi and knocked the offending hand out of his face. “Nara-sensei is definitely not 3am. She’s miles away from the profile.”

“She could be an accomplice,” Kakashi insisted. “Look, I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to say that it’s probably coincidence and she’s a researcher so it’s not suspicious for her to be looking at restricted books. But she lied about knowing Fujimoto and when I started talking about the 3am killings, she changed the subject so fast I almost got whiplash.” Tenzou hummed noncommittally. “Here.” Kakashi thrust two more pieces of paper at him. “These are the lists you gave me earlier. Check them against your ANBU list.”

Tenzou did, knowing what he’d find. Academic research and ANBU weren’t compatible professions. Both took up too much time. Predictably, there were no matches – no one who fit the killer’s profile was an advanced seals user and neither had they checked out the relevant book.

“OK,” Tenzou relented. “Maybe she’s an accomplice. The killer might have asked her to make the seals for him. That doesn’t mean she knows what he’s using them for, though.”

“She knows,” Kakashi said flatly. “That’s why she’s acting guilty.”

“All right, I’ll talk to her again tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Why not now? It’s not that late.”

Tenzou sighed. “Because I have a meeting with the hokage in half an hour, and then I have a pile of old ANBU reports to read over, and it’s going to take me the best part of the evening.”

“Old reports? On what?”

Tenzou hesitated. “You remember I told you I had a suspect?”

“The one you can’t tell me about? Yeah, I remember.”

“Well, it turns out he may have attacked Iruka-sensei with a genjutsu four years ago.”

Kakashi froze. “That’s the ‘incident’ you mentioned? He attacked _Iruka_ with a _genjutsu_ and that’s not enough to make you arrest him?”

Tenzou already regretted mentioning it. “Iruka-sensei couldn’t say for sure whether it was my suspect,” he said patiently. “But he reported it at the time, so I’m going to go through the case files and see if there’s anything I can work with.”

“Tell me who he is.”

Tenzou didn’t bother answering. They’d already had this argument too many times.

“I already know he’s a Hyuuga,” Kakashi said. “Just tell me which one and I’ll go have a nice friendly talk with him about respecting lower ranking shinobi.”

“Kakashi, you’ve done good work today. Don’t spoil it by proving me wrong for trusting you.”

Kakashi folded his arms and pouted. “At least promise me _you’ll_ have a nice friendly talk with him soon.”

Tenzou wanted nothing more. “First chance I get.”

That seemed to placate Kakashi, who nodded, and turned to leave before suddenly whirling back around. “Tenzou, Nara works in the hospital and she’s friends with Iruka-sensei. She could walk right into his room and no one would think to stop her.”

“I’ll have her blacklisted,” Tenzou said immediately. “Right now. I’ll let the guard know that Nara-sensei is a person of interest and not to be allowed any contact with Iruka-sensei.”

Kakashi didn’t relax. “Do it now. Right now.”

“I will. I’ll go over to the hospital and check on Iruka-sensei personally if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Yeah, it will. Thanks, Tenzou. For all of this. For letting me help you on the case and for putting up with my bullshit. I really needed to do this.”

If Tenzou had been feeling mean, he could have pointed out that Kakashi hadn’t left him much choice. Instead he smiled behind the mask. “Don’t make a habit of it.”

  


* * *

  


That evening, Kakashi went to Iruka’s apartment. ANBU had released it as a crime scene, and Kakashi had talked Tenzou into giving him the key. Tomorrow he’d return it, but tonight the least he could do was assess the damage and make sure everything was cleaned up and ready for Iruka’s return.

As he unlocked the front door, he felt a prickle on the back of his neck and turned to see an ANBU standing in full view on the rooftop of the opposite building, watching him. Kakashi turned back to the apartment and stepped inside, and no one descended on him with a sharp blade or a pair of cuffs as he shut the door behind him. Good to know he wasn’t so suspicious that ANBU would jump him on sight. The masked figure had simply made itself known, a subtle warning to let him know they knew he was here.

Far from feeling threatened, it relieved Kakashi to know that Iruka’s house was still being watched. It was growing dim outside, so he switched on the lights and wandered further into the flat.

It was quiet in Iruka’s flat, and already, after two days of absence, there was an unlived in feel to the chilly air. At the end of the hall, Iruka’s bedroom door was shut, and this time Kakashi didn’t hesitate as he’d done when Naruto had stood in the doorway, radiating chakra and pain. He walked past the lounge, his footsteps the only sounds, and put his hand on the door handle and turned.

The smell of blood hit him just as sharply as it had done when it was fresh. The mattress and sheets were brown and congealed, the bloody hand prints dark and desperate where Iruka had struggled. There was a narrow slice in the fabric of the mattress where the sword had gone through, hard to see unless you were looking for it. The chakra wire and the seals on the walls had been spirited away by ANBU.

Kakashi leaned against the doorway and just looked. He’d need to replace the mattress and the sheets, maybe even the whole bed depending on how much the wood had absorbed the blood. There was nothing he could do about moving new furniture in now – the shops would have already shut for the night – but he could start moving out everything that was no longer useable. He could take it out to the Hatake clan compound and burn it in the field behind the main house. The compound was already a place of death – a little extra blood wouldn’t taint it any more.

Kakashi pulled off his gloves and rolled up his sleeves. No time like the present.

  


* * *

  


The worst part of Iruka’s morning was undoubtedly the painful shuffle to the bathroom and his first attempt at a shower. He’d slept no better on the second night than he had the first, and was tired, sore and already sick of the hospital. He was starting to understand why Kakashi always left as soon as he was physically able, no matter how much the medics protested.

A nurse had come to tidy away Naruto’s futon and bring him breakfast, and then Iruka had determined that he was finally going to wash his hair. He hadn’t expected simple movements like standing up and walking around to be so difficult – it was a stomach wound, for God’s sake, he hadn’t hurt his legs – but he had to grit his teeth around the pain. He’d been offered a walking stick by one of the nurses, but he refused to use it. It was stubbornness, he knew, but the sooner he could prove that he could take care of himself, the sooner they’d let him leave.

Naruto hovered at his side the whole way down the corridor, ready to catch him if he fell, but thankfully it was an unnecessary precaution. The ANBU had also trailed him to the shower room, and Iruka felt weird about the two of them standing outside the door as he struggled to take off his pyjamas. The top wasn’t so bad, but bending over to take off the trousers was an agonisingly slow procedure. He peeled the gauze off his stomach and back, revealing the angry stitches over the wounds, the surrounding flesh stained yellow from the iodine.

Standing under the flow of the water, Iruka noticed again the dark bruises around his left wrist, and the scratches from where he’d clawed at the chakra wire with his other hand. He rubbed lightly at the marks, as though he could wash them away, and then looked down at the similar bruises around his ankles.

Iruka had stopped going on missions outside the village almost entirely once he’d started teaching at the age of eighteen. He’d never been captured by the enemy, had never known what it was to be bound and helpless. Fighting was different. He’d fought for his life more times than he could count, but always with an arsenal of weapons and seals and the freedom to move his body: to attack, to block, to dodge.

Closing his eyes, he could feel the bite of chakra wire in his skin and remembered the ease with which the man above him had held down his arm, as though killing Iruka took no effort at all. His masked face had loomed inches from Iruka’s own, the dark shadows in the eye holes trained on his face, silently watching him struggle until Iruka had given up and lain still and submissive beneath him. Iruka wondered now if that’s what his attacker had been waiting for: the look in his eyes when he’d stopped fighting for his life and accepted, without a doubt, that he was going to die.

The water was warm, but Iruka shivered violently and leaned against the tiled wall. He hadn’t started to struggle again as the man had let him go. He’d simply watched as the stranger had left the room, and it wasn’t until he heard the quiet click of the front door that he’d been struck again by the terror of dying and writhed against his bonds, screaming for help that wasn’t coming until his shinobi training had forced the panic out of his mind and he’d remembered the seal he’d just designed and the pile of chakra paper he’d shut in his bedside table drawer.

Iruka didn’t want to remember the struggle to make the seals that had saved his life. He didn’t want to remember the overwhelming relief he’d felt when they’d worked, or the numbness that had settled over him while he’d waited to be found, trembling against the damp sheets and feeling the slow trickle of blood like a countdown, his body an hourglass with a hole in the bottom to let all the sand escape.

A knock on the door jolted him back to the present.

“Iruka-sensei,” came Naruto’s worried voice. “Are you OK in there?”

Iruka took a slow, shaky breath and pulled himself together.

“I’m fine,” he called. “Sorry for being so slow.”

Taking another breath, Iruka squeezed some soap into his hands and started to wash away the blood and the sweat. It was a small first step, but he had to start somewhere.

  


* * *

  


Kaede didn’t look pleased to see Tenzou for the second time in two days. This time he’d found her at home, dressed in sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt and clearly not in the mood to receive guests. Tenzou had invited himself in anyway and now they were sitting on opposite sides of the coffee table in her lounge. Kaede was clutching a half drunk mug of coffee, her fingers flexing rhythmically around the cup.

“Thank you for your help yesterday, Nara-sensei,” Tenzou said. “Thanks to you, I was able to do a little more digging and I have some questions I’d like to ask.”

“You never told me what you were investigating,” Kaede said. “What exactly has you so interested in seals?”

“The 3am Killer,” Tenzou said, and watched her reaction carefully. Her hands stilled on the mug, but her expression didn’t change.

“Well, I’d like to help you with that if I can,” she said.

Tenzou nodded and laid out before her the archive record of the people who’d checked out the restricted book. He’d highlighted her name both times it appeared.

“Can you tell me why you were looking at this book?”

Kaede glanced at the title. “I don’t remember the exact volume, but from the title it sounds relevant to a lot of the research I carry out. As I think I mentioned to you yesterday, chakra flow is important in the healing process, so it’s an issue that appears in a lot of the seals I design.”

“But you don’t remember exactly what you were looking at in this book.”

“I do so much research that exact authors and titles don’t stick in my memory.”

“Even though you checked this book out twice in the past four months?”

Kaede shrugged uneasily. “I must have needed to double check something, or maybe I lost my notes. I can’t remember.”

Tenzou put down one of the chakra repressing seals next to the list. “Do you recognise this seal?”

Kaede stared at the symbols. “It’s designed to block chakra. I don’t have to recognise a seal to read it.”

“But have you seen it before?”

“I don’t know. Possibly. I see a lot of seals.”

Another lie. Tenzou could show her the seal she’d drawn yesterday, the one Kakashi had reproduced, and call her on it, but he didn’t want her to close off just yet.

“Nara-sensei, have you ever met Fujimoto Akane?”

Kaede took a gulp of coffee. Tenzou watched her throat constrict as she swallowed. “No, I haven’t.”

“Are you sure? Only I was speaking to Himura Daiki yesterday and he told me it was Fujimoto-san who approached you about his eyes.”

Tenzou expected that to produce a reaction, but Kaede simply frowned at the mug and squeezed it between her hands. 

“Oh,” she said suddenly. “Yes, I remember now. I met Fujimoto-san that once, a couple of months before I performed the surgery. After then, I only dealt with Himura-san, which must be why I’d forgotten. I’m sorry about that.”

It was plausible, but she’d already lied about the seal. Tenzou’s gut told him she was lying about knowing Akane too.

“What about Hyuuga Eri? I know the two of you were part of the seals community, but were you close to her?”

Kaede shook her head. “Eri-san wasn’t a researcher or a seals user, not really. She was interested in learning the theory so she could better advise her clients who wanted seal tattoos. I’d worked with her a few times on medical seal tattoos, but she didn’t come to many of our social gatherings.”

Tenzou had no idea how likely that was to be true, but he could easily check by talking to Eri’s friends. Now he moved onto the question he really wanted to ask. “Do you know Hyuuga Haruki?”

Kaede looked at him in clear surprise. “No, I don’t think so. Why, who’s he?” She paused. “Or is it a she?”

That wasn’t the response Tenzou had been hoping for. If Kaede was really involved, she had to know Haruki. Yet this time she didn’t look like she was lying.

“He’s from the Hyuuga branch house, currently working as a jounin-sensei.”

Kaede still looked blank. “If we’ve met, I don’t remember. What’s he got to do with the murders?”

Everything. “Maybe nothing. I’m just trying to cover every angle.” He’d have to approach it from the other side and ask Haruki if he knew Kaede. Tenzou had tried to convince himself he wasn’t looking forward to speaking with Haruki again, but he knew deep down that he was itching for another round. “That’s everything for today, Nara-sensei. Thank you for your time.”

  


* * *

  


Furniture shopping didn’t come naturally to Kakashi, but with Sasuke’s and Sakura’s help he’d managed to spend a productive morning picking out a bed, mattress and a set of sheets, and arranged for them to be delivered to Iruka’s apartment later that afternoon. Now he was torn between feeling pleased with himself and worried that Iruka would hate everything he’d chosen.

Since then, he’d passed Sasuke and Sakura off to Gai, who was thrilled at the prospect of making his genin team face off against Kakashi’s. Kakashi was only sorry that his students and Gai had already met. He would have loved to have seen their expressions the first time they’d come face to face with those eyebrows.

It was pure chance he happened to see Tenzou heading out towards the training grounds, and Kakashi still couldn’t justify to himself why he’d followed. Maybe it was the smell of burning blood still fresh in his memory from when he’d thrown Iruka’s mattress on a bonfire the night before, or the image of those bloody handprints that he knew he’d never erase from his mind, even without the aid of the sharingan. He hadn’t known that Tenzou had been going to track down his suspect, but as soon as he saw the colourless Hyuuga eyes of the man Tenzou approached on the training field, he knew there was no turning back.

The Hyuuga didn’t look happy to see Tenzou. He was training with three genin, who he left to their own devices when Tenzou had walked over to him. Kakashi slipped through the trees along the edge of the training ground, hiding his chakra and making no noise, until he was close enough to overhear without being seen.

“Back so soon?” the Hyuuga asked disdainfully.

Tenzou opened a file and started reading. “Hyuuga Haruki is suspected of ambushing the victim as he returned home and using a genjutsu to simulate drowning.” He looked up. “No wonder you were so quick to deny it. You’d have been charged with assault and _torture_ of a fellow shinobi. That’s at least ten years in prison.”

Kakashi’s hand gripped the handle of a kunai so hard the metal dug grooves in his fingers. He entertained the fantasy of throwing it at Haruki’s face.

Haruki seemed unconcerned that Tenzou was accusing him of a serious crime. “Show me the page where they proved it was me. I had nothing to do with that, although I will say –” he leaned forward into Tenzou’s personal space “– that Umino had it coming.”

Kakashi pushed the point of the knife against the tree, the bark splintering beneath his hand.

“What about being stabbed through the stomach and left to bleed to death? Did he have that coming too?”

Haruki shrugged. “Depends what he did to deserve it. He must have done something, right? Otherwise why would someone try to kill him?”

“You tell me. Why would someone want to kill Iruka-sensei? In your opinion.”

“I still don’t know what you have against me, Kitty Cat, but we both know you’ve got nothing on me. You know how I know? Because I didn’t kill those chuunin. Now, do you have anything useful to say or can I get back to training?”

Tenzou snapped the file shut. Kakashi could see the tension lining his shoulders. “Do you know a medic called Nara Kaede?”

“Never heard of her.”

“That was very quick. Maybe take a minute and think harder.”

Haruki sighed impatiently. “I don’t know her. Why, what’s she told you I’ve done?”

“Do you know Kawaguchi Rikuo?”

“What, Kawacchi? Yeah, he’s that punk’s uncle.” Haruki gestured over his shoulder to one of his students. “And a colleague of yours, I believe. Don’t tell me you think _he_ did it.” He seemed genuinely amused by the idea. “He chose a fucking snail as his mask. A _snail_. If I hadn’t seen it for myself, I’d think it was a joke.”

“How’s your relationship with Kawaguchi?”

“He hates my guts,” Haruki said, chuckling. “He has that in common with you, though he at least has the balls to tell me to my face.”

“Hyuuga-san, which sense does your genjutsu target?”

“Sound. Want me to demonstrate?”

“No thanks. I’m not especially fond of drowning.” Tenzou’s tone was icy. “Would it be possible for you put someone under a genjutsu while they were sleeping?”

Haruki hadn’t reacted to the jab about drowning. “Yeah, maybe. I mean, I’ve never tried it, but it’s easier to catch someone when they’re relaxed. Are we done yet?”

Tenzou nodded stiffly. “Thank you for your time, Hyuuga-san.”

Kakashi stood up straighter. That was it? Tenzou was giving up after only this much?

Haruki laughed. “So polite. They must train ANBU better these days. Now if only you’d quit harassing me, I’d give you full marks.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t give me so many reasons to harass you,” Tenzou said levelly.

“Where would be the fun in that?” He started to walk away, then stopped. “Oh, you asked why someone would want to kill Umino. In my humble opinion, it’s because he doesn’t know his place or mind his own business. That’s why this shit always happens to him. Because no matter how hard you try to teach him a lesson, he never fucking learns.”

The insinuation dripping from his tone was more than Kakashi could take. He erupted out of the tree line, hand already reaching for his hitae-ate. Tenzou whirled around, but Kakashi wasn’t looking at him. He turned both his eyes on Haruki.

“Let’s find out if _you_ tried to teach Iruka a lesson,” he snarled. The sharingan burned into Haruki’s eyes.

“Kakashi, no!”

A kunai flew towards Kakashi’s eye, but Tenzou batted it out of the air before it reached him. Haruki reached for another weapon.

“Attacking first with an ANBU present?” he said. “My, Hatake, you’ve really lost your touch. Oi, Kitty Cat, you going to arrest him or will I have to blind him in self-defence?”

“Try it.” Kakashi had already started weaving the genjutsu, designed to delve into Haruki’s memories, when Tenzou stabbed him in the arm. “ _Fuck_.”

His concentration broken, the genjutsu shattered before it had even taken hold. Kakashi ripped Tenzou’s arm away from him, the knife wet with his blood. It was only a flesh wound, designed to distract him rather than to seriously injure him, but the fact that Tenzou was the one who’d hurt him made him angrier. Kakashi’s fingers dug into Tenzou’s wrist, squeezing the bone, and Tenzou used the grip to whirl Kakashi around, his arm suddenly pressed up behind his back, forcing him to let go only for Tenzou to grab his wrist in return and push him to the ground, hand behind his back.

It was over in a moment. Kakashi glared up at Haruki and Tenzou’s other hand forced his hitae-ate back over the sharingan. Haruki’s genin had come running over and were clustered around their teacher.

“What’s going on?” one of them chirped.

“What did you do this time, Haruki-sensei?” another asked wearily.

It was the presence of children on the scene that took the fight out of Kakashi. He relaxed and Tenzou warily let go of his arm, allowing him to stand up.

Haruki had sheathed his weapon again and was watching Kakashi as though he were a particularly interesting insect he’d caught in a jar.

“It’s ironic, really,” he mused. “I saw your big bust up with Umino at the chuunin exams meeting, and there was no love lost between you then. Maybe you should be looking into Hatake, ANBU- _san_. He clearly has no qualms about using genjutsu unprovoked on fellow shinobi.”

“I apologise for the disturbance,” Tenzou said. Kakashi could feel the anger rolling off him in waves and didn’t care. He was every bit as angry at Tenzou for stopping him.

“Come with me,” Tenzou snapped. He clamped a hand around Kakashi’s arm and started to lead him off the field.

“Let go of me.”

“Will you attack him again if I do?”

“No,” Kakashi grit out. Tenzou let him go, but kept glancing back to make sure Kakashi was following.

They stopped again two fields over on an empty training ground.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Tenzou hissed. “I can’t believe you. You abused my trust and followed me here even though you know you don’t have the clearance. I could arrest you for this, Kakashi. I _should_ arrest you.”

“I wouldn’t have had to do anything if you hadn’t given up so easily. What were _you_ thinking, just accepting everything he said?”

“What else could I do? Nara-sensei said she didn’t know him. I have nothing except a possible attack on Iruka-sensei, which ANBU couldn’t prove at the time, and a bunch of connections that aren’t anything more than circumstantial.”

“Then you should have let me genjutsu him. I could have found out for sure. Isn’t that what we’re doing here, searching for the truth?”

Tenzou took a step closer, getting in Kakashi’s face. “You cannot use a genjutsu on a Konoha shinobi without their permission. That’s a serious crime, Kakashi. The law doesn’t make exceptions for you. You know, if anyone finds out I’ve been letting you help me on the case, I could be kicked out of ANBU. Don’t you even care about the position you’re putting me in?”

“That shithead tried to kill Iruka,” Kakashi spat. “That’s more important than your fucking job.”

“Unless you can prove that he did it, _legally_ , I can’t do shit about that.”

“You think he did it too!”

“Yes, I do,” Tenzou snapped. “And I’m trying my hardest to find some fucking evidence. Kakashi, if anything happens to Haruki-san, I’m going to report you. I don’t care if you’re in love with Iruka-sensei –”

“Wait – that’s –”

“–that’s not an excuse for impeding an ANBU investigation. As of right now, you’re no longer working the case with me.” Tenzou stepped back and ran a hand through his hair. “I knew this would happen. I knew you were a liability and I still let you on the fucking case. Why do I let you do this to me? Every fucking time.” The anger had drained out of his voice, leaving nothing but exhaustion. Kakashi might have felt bad if he wasn’t so alarmed by Tenzou’s words.

“Tenzou –”

“Don’t call me that while I’m in uniform.”

“You can’t take me off the case.”

“I just did.”

“I need to do this!”

“You should have thought of that before you followed me here,” Tenzou snapped. “You’re not working this anymore and I’m not going to change my mind. Don’t talk to me about it again.”

He brought his hands together in a series of signs and disappeared before Kakashi could plead his case. Kakashi turned and stabbed the nearest tree with his kunai, burying it up to the hilt.

He’d fucked up. He could see that now. But Tenzou wasn’t giving him a chance to fix it. Kakashi yanked the kunai out of the tree and slid it back into its holster. It didn’t matter if Tenzou had lost faith in him. Kakashi could do this by himself. He knew who the key players were and he could always go back to Hiashi to dig up more information. Unlike Tenzou, he wasn’t restricted by ANBU procedures; he could find the evidence and take it to Tenzou, proving his worth and protecting Iruka at the same time.

Kakashi started to head back towards town. Maybe he was even better off without Tenzou. Now there was no one to hold him back, he could do things his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, snap.


	8. Chapter Eight

Tenzou had mostly calmed down from his fight with Kakashi by the time he got back to the ANBU offices. He pulled his mask off, wiped away the sweat, and slumped into his seat, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

“Whoa, Tenzou, rough morning?”

Kawaguchi was watching him curiously from his desk, which was diagonally opposite Tenzou’s.

“You could say that,” Tenzou mumbled.

“Well, I’ve got good news for you. I’ve been waiting for you to get in, actually.”

Kawaguchi grabbed a couple of files and used his other hand to flip neatly over the desks to Tenzou’s side, earning him a glare from a couple of other ANBU. Ignoring them, Kawaguchi slid into the empty desk chair next to Tenzou and pulled it closer.

“Here’s your copy of the autopsy report for the Forest body, which I kindly picked up for you, and here’s the personnel file on our victim.”

Tenzou blinked at the documents that had been dropped in front of him. “His personnel file? You mean you ID’d him?” He snatched up the file.

“Yep. Name’s Matsuoka Sho. Chuunin. Disappeared on the 10th and probably died the same day. That’s three days before Fujimoto Akane died, so if this really is 3am, it’s the first vic. Matsuoka was a medic at the hospital, surgeon and researcher, and his wife reported him missing when he didn’t come home from his shift. He’d been listed as missing nin on the system because when he disappeared, a bunch of restricted scrolls went with him.”

Tenzou was flipping through the file and stopped at a copy of an ANBU charges sheet. “He had a hearing scheduled over plagiarism charges.”

“Yep.” Kawaguchi leaned over Tenzou’s shoulder, arm on the back of his chair. Usually Tenzou would have pushed him out of his personal space, but he was too busy scanning through the document. Kawaguchi tapped a paragraph. “And the first person of interest on my list is the woman he allegedly stole research from. Another medic called –”

“Nara Kaede,” Tenzou breathed.

  


* * *

  


Tenzou and Kawaguchi had commandeered one of the two interrogation rooms in the Torture and Interrogation building that were reserved for ANBU use. Another ANBU had been sent to fetch Kaede while Tenzou talked Kawaguchi through Kaede’s connection to the 3am victims and how she’d lied about knowing the seal found at the crime scenes.

“You think she got 3am to kill Matsuoka too?” Kawaguchi asked.

“Maybe,” Tenzou said. “Or the killer has a connection to Matsuoka as well and it was mutually beneficial. Maybe that’s what brought them together.”

A knock sounded at the door.

“Show time,” Kawaguchi muttered, getting up to open it.

Kaede was visibly nervous as she sat down across the table from them. She glanced from one of them to the other, paying special attention to Kawaguchi, trying to work out why he was with Tenzou.

“Sorry to bring you all the way down here, Nara-sensei,” Tenzou said. “But we have a lot of questions for you today and thought it would be best to discuss them in private.”

“Of course.” Kaede was still glancing nervously at Kawaguchi, trying to stare at his mask without looking rude. That happened a lot. Kawaguchi’s mask wasn’t the typical animal face; instead there was a spiral, designed to represent a snail’s shell, that started low on the forehead and reached down to the cheekbones before ending at the outer edge of the mask, drawing a line from the left eye up and round to the right side of the face, where it traced an outline down to the jaw. The trick was to tilt your head to the left, and then it simply looked like a drawing of a snail, but it tended to unnerve people who didn’t know Kawaguchi’s code name.

Kawaguchi’s interview style was much more direct than Tenzou’s. He opened the file in front of him, withdrew a picture of Matsuoka’s dead, eyeless face and slapped it down in front of Kaede, who stared at it in horror before quickly turning away.

“Know anything about this?” Kawaguchi asked.

“Who is that?” Kaede asked.

“You sure you don’t recognise him? Take a closer look. Go on.”

Kaede steeled herself and looked back at the photograph. She closed her eyes again instinctively. No shinobi was that squeamish, and especially not a medic. She knew exactly who she was looking at.

“I can’t tell,” Kaede said. “Not – like that.”

“Well, luckily I know who he is,” Kawaguchi said. “He’s your good friend Matsuoka Sho-sensei. When’s the last time you saw him?”

“I don’t know. Weeks ago.”

“Why did you think he was stealing your research?”

“I caught him in my office snooping through my files.”

“Is that why you killed him?”

Kaede stared at him, blinking rapidly. If Tenzou hadn’t been so busy watching her, he would have cast Kawaguchi an admiring glance, safe in the knowledge that no one could see.

“I didn’t kill him,” Kaede said, and her voice broke. She coughed, and then repeated, stronger, “I didn’t kill him.”

“Are you The 3am Killer?” Kawaguchi asked.

“No! Why would you think –?”

“Are you sure? Because the evidence is starting to look pretty damning.”

Kawaguchi sat back and held the file loosely in front of him, flicking through pages that had nothing to do with Kaede. She watched him, staring fixedly at the file.

“Nara-sensei, why did you lie to me yesterday about knowing Fujimoto-san?” Tenzou asked, keeping his tone a calm contrast to Kawaguchi’s rapid-fire aggression. Kaede turned to him and leaned forwards.

“I told you, I’d forgotten we’d met. I didn’t mean to lie.”

Tenzou nodded. “Maybe that’s true. But you lied to me about not recognising the chakra repressing seal I showed you. Please don’t deny it. I know you can draw those symbols from memory. And you didn’t disguise your signature as well as you thought. Someone ID’d you as the person who drew the seals we found at the crime scenes.”

Kaede hesitated, unsure whether he was bluffing. “Whoever told you that was lying.”

“So how do you manage to tie up the victims without them fighting back?” Kawaguchi asked. “Hey, actually, wouldn’t that Nara shadow jutsu be really useful for something like that?”

If Tenzou hadn’t known it had been genjutsu, he’d have been persuaded by that argument. But he’d seen the Nara shadow jutsu in use and the people being controlled had full awareness of what was happening to them. Even if it worked on people who were sleeping, there was no way Kaede could have made Kawaguchi go to the ANBU offices and retrieve a mask and uniform without waking him.

“I didn’t kill them,” Kaede insisted.

“But you did use your bloodline to control them, is that what you’re saying?”

“No! I didn’t use my jutsu!”

Now that was a slip. Kawaguchi paused for a beat to let Kaede notice her own phrasing.

“So what did you use?” Kawaguchi asked.

Kaede’s cheeks were flushed pink. “I don’t know. It wasn’t my jutsu because I wasn’t there. That’s all I meant.”

“Nara-sensei,” Tenzou intervened, “when did you last see Matsuoka-san?”

Kaede latched onto the question as an escape from Kawaguchi.

“It was the day before he went missing,” she said. “His office is down the hall from mine, so I saw him almost every day.”

“Oh, now you remember,” Kawaguchi said. “I asked you that question five minutes ago and you said you had no idea. Do you always have such an aversion to telling the truth, Nara-sensei?”

Kaede buried a hand in her hair and tugged at the roots. “I can’t think when you ask me questions. You’re too fast.”

“They’re simple questions,” Kawaguchi said. “Or do you need the extra time to think up more lies?”

“I’m not lying!”

“I really hope you’re not. Lying to an ANBU is a crime, did you know that?”

“You saw that chakra repressing seal in the book you checked out, didn’t you, Nara-sensei?” Tenzou asked.

Kaede threw her hands in the air. “Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

Tenzou hadn’t wanted to involve Kakashi, but he delved into his own file and pulled out the seal Kakashi had given him. He showed it to Kaede, who froze.

“Hatake-san was working for _you_?”

“No, he’s a personal friend of mine,” Tenzou said. “He showed me this when he told me about his visit to you. You can imagine how surprised I was when I saw it, and how strange it seemed when this morning you claimed to have never seen the original seal before.”

He’d trapped her and she knew it. She stared down at her hands, which were clenched in her lap.

“Did you draw those seals for The 3am Killer?” Kawaguchi asked.

“No.”

“Then why did you lie to Cat?”

“Because I’d heard there were seals like that found at the crime scenes,” Kaede said desperately. “And I knew it looked bad. I knew I’d checked that book out twice and you’d find the records. But it wasn’t me, I swear it. I had nothing to do with those murders.”

“Let’s talk about Matsuoka,” Kawaguchi said. He withdrew the ANBU charges sheet from his file. “You filed charges against Matsuoka for plagiarising your research. The date these were submitted was the twenty-ninth of March, thirteen days before he disappeared. Did you find out he was trying to make a break for it? Could you not stand the thought of him running off with your research?”

“I didn’t know he was going to run,” Kaede protested.

“Well, how could you? I mean, he didn’t run, he was killed. But since he didn’t run off with those restricted scrolls, I wonder what happened to them. They weren’t found at the burial site.”

Another good point that Tenzou hadn’t thought of.

“After we’re done here, I’m going to search your office,” Kawaguchi said. “If Matsuoka’s scrolls are there, I’m going to assume the worst and arrest you. This is your only chance to explain to me why you could possibly have them if it isn’t because you killed him.”

For a moment, Tenzou thought she was going to confess to having the scrolls. But then she met Kawaguchi’s eyes and stared him down.

“You can’t search my office without a warrant,” she said.

Kawaguchi shrugged. “I put the request in this morning. Should have gone through by the time we’re done here.”

“That’s impossible. All institutions dedicated to sensitive research require a special warrant because of the amount of restricted knowledge inside. The hospital research centre qualifies for that. It would take more than a day to get that approved.”

She was calling Kawaguchi’s bluff, but he didn’t look like he cared.

“Shall we make a bet then?” He leaned forwards across the table. “I bet my clearance is higher than yours.”

She was shaken again. Tenzou seized the moment.

“What happened after Matsuoka-sensei stole your research? What procedures were happening before the hearing?”

“Erm.” Kaede frowned, thrown off balance again. “ANBU were going through his office and gathering evidence. But it was an open and shut case, there wasn’t much to do.”

“You said Matsuoka-sensei was still coming in to work. That must have been awkward. Did he confront you at all? Try to pick a fight?”

“No, he avoided me, but sometimes we couldn’t help bumping into each other in the corridors. When we saw each other, we didn’t speak. He wasn’t ashamed, though. He’d always look me in the eye as though he didn’t even care what he’d done.”

“So you were angry at him,” Kawaguchi observed.

“Of course I was angry! He’d been banned from accessing any more restricted documents, but he was carrying on with what he already had, as though he had the right. He should have been suspended, but he’s a surgeon as well and we’re short staffed enough as it is. They didn’t want to lose him.”

Kaede was gesturing wildly, clearly still irate at the hospital’s decision.

“So you killed him and stole his research,” Kawaguchi said. “It was only fair since it was technically your research.”

“I didn’t do that.”

“How did Matsuoka-sensei know Hyuuga Haruki?” Tenzou asked.

Kaede stared at him blankly. “I told you, I don’t know who that is.”

“Maybe he didn’t know Matsuoka,” Kawaguchi said to Tenzou. “Maybe Matsuoka was all Nara-sensei’s idea. Maybe even the rest of them too. After all, why stop at one?”

“You think – you think this Haruki is The 3am Killer?” Kaede said.

“Is he?” Kawaguchi asked.

“How should I know? I don’t know who killed those women.”

Kawaguchi sat back and stared at her, tapping the folder against the desk.

“Anything else you wanted to ask, Cat?” he said, glancing at Tenzou.

“Not for the moment.”

“Then we’re done here. You’re free to go, Nara-sensei.”

Kaede stared at him, waiting for the axe to fall. He picked up the documents from the table and slipped them neatly into his file. Tenzou stood up.

“I’ll escort you out,” he said pleasantly.

“That’s it?” Kaede asked suspiciously. “You’re really letting me go?”

“I think we’ve got everything we need for now,” Tenzou said, which didn’t seem to ease her nerves.

“Besides,” Kawaguchi added, “I’ll see you later when the warrant comes through.”

Kaede slowly stood up and walked over to the door. Tenzou held it open for her and then walked her through the building in silence. He held the main door open for her, and she hesitated a beat before stepping out onto the street, still not quite believing that after Kawaguchi’s grilling she was being dismissed so suddenly.

“Sorry for the inconvenience,” Tenzou apologised again. “Though I’m afraid we’ll probably be seeing you again soon. Have a good day, Nara-sensei.”

Back inside, Kawaguchi had removed the tape from the recorder beneath the table. Recording interviews was standard procedure, and it wasn’t exactly a secret, but ANBU found it more effective if the interviewee wasn’t thinking of that when they were talking. Knowing they were speaking on record often discouraged them from speaking as freely as they might otherwise.

“Really?” Tenzou asked. “Good cop bad cop?”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it,” Kawaguchi said. “We got jack shit from her though. The only real hope we have is that she really does have Matsuoka’s research and she’ll try and move it this afternoon.”

“Do you have someone watching her?”

“I posted someone outside her office as soon as I saw Matsuoka’s file, and someone’s watching her house too. And I really do have a warrant pending, but she’s right that it’s going to take until tomorrow, if it gets approved at all.”

Tenzou looked at him. “Sometimes I forget you can be efficient when you decide to make the effort.”

“Did you think I made ANBU because of my pretty face?”

“I thought we were short-staffed and desperate.”

Kawaguchi flipped him off without looking up. “So, do we think our cases are connected?”

Tenzou thought about it. “Nara-sensei is definitely involved in both. I think she made seals for 3am and I think she had a hand in Matsuoka-sensei’s murder. That’s enough of a connection for us to share information, but not enough to combine the cases. We should keep working separately and collaborate.”

Kawaguchi nodded. “That’s what I think. Matsuoka’s murder feels different, though. I think it was personal, and that’s why the body was hidden – because the connection between Matsuoka and Nara was too obvious. What’s your theory for 3am’s motive?”

“All three victims were chuunin who’d recently argued with elite jounin, and all had a connection to the Hyuuga clan. On that basis, I narrowed the suspects down to Hyuuga Haruki. I think he’s killing off lower ranked shinobi who’ve insulted his clan. I don’t know whether Matsuoka would also fit that profile, but like you said, that one might have been different. It might have started with Nara-sensei’s revenge and then evolved once Haruki-san realised how he could get away with murder.”

“Haruki, huh?” Kawaguchi mused. “That’s why you were asking if I knew him.”

“It all fits,” Tenzou said. “He knows all three victims and you. The only thing I can’t figure out is how he knows Nara-sensei. Both of them are denying ever having met. Though they would, of course, if they were killing people together.” He glanced at Kawaguchi. “You know Haruki-san well, right? He had a nickname for you. ‘Kawacchi’, he called you.”

Kawaguchi slumped back in his seat. “He calls me that because he knows I hate it. Yeah, I guess I know him better than I’d like. He was my cell leader back when I first joined ANBU and he still bugs me whenever he can. He’s like the creepy uncle I never had or wanted.”

“Do you think he’s capable of serial murder?”

“He’s definitely a sociopath,” Kawaguchi mused. “He likes pushing people so he can see how far they bend, and I don’t think he cares if he breaks a couple in the process. I’d say the only thing that keeps him in line is the Hyuuga code of honour, but if he’s killing in the name of that code, then yeah, I guess it’s possible. I certainly wouldn’t say he was incapable of it.”

Tenzou put his file away into his sealing scroll. “I’m going to keep working on the connection between Haruki-san and Nara-sensei. If you could try and find out whether Matsuoka-sensei fits the profile for a 3am victim, that would be great.”

“You’re giving me orders now?” Kawaguchi grumbled as he stood up, the chair scraping loudly on the floor. “I’m three whole years older than you, you know. You should be calling me senpai and doing my paperwork.”

“I’m not calling a snail senpai.”

“What about the paperwork?”

Tenzou didn’t even bother to reply.

  


* * *

  


Iruka had expected the medic from the psych department, so even though nobody had warned him she was coming, he was prepared when she finally showed up.

“For now, this is a one-off evaluation,” she said as she settled into the chair next to Iruka’s bed. Naruto had been politely but firmly kicked out of the room and was currently sulking in the corridor.

“I know,” Iruka said. “Standard procedure, right?”

“Exactly. You’ve gone through a traumatic ordeal and I need to assess whether there are any psychological ramifications. I’m going to need you to be honest and frank with me. Nothing scary happens if I judge you to be less than perfectly all right. Worst case scenario is that I put you down for a few sessions with a psychologist who’ll help you deal with this.”

Iruka wondered how many shinobi had lied their way through her assessments that she felt she had to give this spiel at the beginning of her sessions. It almost made him feel bad for what he was about to do, but the last thing he wanted was to talk about what had happened with a total stranger. He had to grit his teeth and go through with it today, but he didn’t plan on letting anyone else dictate how and when he remembered the attack. He hadn’t had any control over the situation when someone had decided to try and murder him, but he’d be damned if he was going to let anyone else force him to relive it.

“I understand,” he said, and gave her a weak smile.

The psychologist returned the smile. “Well, let’s start with the basics. I’d like you to tell me what happened to you, in as much or little detail as you’re comfortable with.”

Internally, Iruka took a deep, calming breath.

“I don’t remember all that much,” he said. “I was under a genjutsu until I was stabbed and afterwards I was unconscious for most of the night.” The first lie. “I do remember the pain, and the shock of being attacked in my own home, but I was able to stay calm enough to save my own life.” He wondered how much she knew, and thought it was best not to mention the seals or the ANBU mask unless she explicitly told him she had the clearance.

“Do you feel safe in the hospital?”

“I have an ANBU right outside my door at all hours of the day. Nothing could make me feel safer.”

She smiled and nodded. So she didn’t know that Iruka’s attacker had been ANBU. He must have been referred to her by his doctor, and no one else had briefed her on the specifics of his case. Part of Iruka felt uncomfortable that confidentiality was more important to Sandaime and ANBU than his mental health, but the larger part of him breathed a sigh of relief.

“How do you think you’d feel about returning home? Have you thought about it?”

“I can’t wait,” Iruka said. “Honestly, I have some mixed feelings about it, but the sooner I go home, the sooner I can get over this. You know, sometimes when I’m teaching students how to use weapons, they hurt themselves, and I always make them try again as soon as I can – straight away if possible – because the longer they wait, the more nervous they get about picking up another shuriken. I think this is the same principle. Only by sleeping in my own bed again will I be able to face the bad memories and feel safe at home.”

In infiltration and espionage training, it was drilled into every shinobi’s head that the best liars used as much of the truth as possible. That was Iruka’s tactic now. He really did feel that his psychological healing couldn’t begin until he was back at the scene of the crime. The psychologist nodded, and Iruka could tell she was impressed.

“That sounds like one of the ways we treat phobias,” she said. “Exposure to the source of fear in a controlled environment often helps to dissolve the phobia.”

“Good to know I’m not torturing my students for no reason.”

She laughed, and Iruka relaxed. What kind of trauma victim cracked jokes? There was no way she’d refer him.

“If we do let you go home in the next few days and you find it’s harder than you anticipated, do you have a support system in place? Friends, family, people you can talk to?”

Iruka motioned to the collection of get well cards around the room. “I’m lucky to have a lot of friends, and I know exactly which ones I’d go to if I needed to talk.”

“Have you already spoken to anyone about what happened?”

Iruka hesitated. “No. No one’s really asked, and besides, Naruto’s always in here and I don’t want to talk about it in front of him. He’s been really upset about everything and I don’t want to distress him any more than I already have.”

The psychologist nodded. “He certainly seemed unwilling to leave you alone with me.”

“He wants to help me but doesn’t know how, so he’s overcompensating by being overprotective.” Iruka smiled with real fondness, glancing over towards the door. “I’m a little concerned about him staying so close when the man who hurt me is still out there, but short of asking the ANBU to drag him home, I can’t make him leave. And it’s nice to have company so I don’t have any other reason to not want him here.”

The psychologist watched him for a moment, and Iruka got the impression she was glancing through her mental notes from the conversation. Then she put her hands together and leaned forwards.

“I think that’s all I need,” she said. “You seem to be coping very well; you have a clear support system in place if something does trigger a bad reaction, and you’re already thinking about how you can best recover. I rarely speak to patients with such good self-awareness. I’m not going to refer you for compulsory therapy, although if you later feel like you need some help, you can come over to Psych and book an appointment yourself. Is that OK?”

“Sure. Though hopefully I won’t need to.”

“I hope so too.”

When she’d gone, Iruka relaxed against the pillows and let the smile drop from his face during the brief moment between her exit and Naruto’s entrance. That had gone better than he’d thought it would. So well, in fact, that he wondered if there wasn’t something to what the psychologist had said. Maybe he wasn’t coping as badly as he’d feared. He wouldn’t know – he had nothing to compare himself against. What did a trauma victim usually look like?

Somehow, he felt better for having spoken to the psychologist. Not because it had helped to talk about what he was feeling and thinking, but because she’d told him he was strong enough to handle this himself. That’s what Iruka needed now – to know that he was strong, that what had happened wasn’t proof of an inherent weakness. When Naruto bounded back into the room, his smile returned more easily, and even the sight of the ANBU in the corridor outside was almost something he could ignore.

  


* * *

  


It was probably a little risky for Kakashi to be back at the Hyuuga compound after his confrontation with Haruki, but since Haruki seemed the type to train his students all afternoon without a break, Kakashi felt secure in the knowledge that he wouldn’t run into him there. The same girl as last time showed him to the private room where Hiashi was waiting for him and poured the tea before leaving the two men alone.

“Last time you said Fujimoto-san had been looking at restricted materials from the archives without permission,” Kakashi said without preamble. “If you have records of what she’d checked out, I’d like a copy of them.”

“How demanding,” Hiashi said dryly. “A copy of the records can be arranged.” For a price, Kakashi knew.

“Were you aware that ANBU is investigating a member of your clan?” Tenzou would kill him if he ever found out about this, but Kakashi couldn’t afford to worry about that at the moment.

Hiashi sat up straighter. “Who?”

“Haruki-san. Earlier today I followed the ANBU working the case and overheard them talking. It seems there was an incident between Haruki-san and Iruka-sensei four years ago.” Hiashi would know what he was talking about.

“An alleged incident,” Hiashi corrected, “which has no bearing on the unrelated string of murders happening now.”

Kakashi shrugged. “I’m only passing on what I thought might interest you.” Hiashi would definitely look into Haruki and hopefully keep a close watch on him. He’d have a difficult time sneaking out of the Hyuuga compound from now on. That should help keep Iruka safe.

Hiashi sipped his tea. “How thoughtful. Would you have happened to overhear any other reasons why ANBU would be interested in Haruki?”

“Other than his charming personality? No.” Kakashi still drew the line at telling Hiashi about the profile. “But it sounded like it wasn’t the first time they’d spoken.”

“I see.” Hiashi was frowning lightly. Kakashi waited patiently while he thought about it. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Hatake-san. Please excuse me one moment, and I’ll send someone to make you a copy of those records.”

He went out into the corridor, closing the door behind him. There was a moment of low voices and then Hiashi returned. Kakashi hoped Hiashi didn’t think the records were payment enough for information of that magnitude.

“Were you aware that a fourth murder has been discovered with a possible connection to the case?” Hiashi asked. Kakashi sat up straighter. Apparently he could count on the Hyuuga code of honour for some things.

“The body from the Forest of Death? All I’ve heard is that there was a similar MO.”

“The victim’s name is Matsuoka Sho. I took the liberty of sending for a copy of the information I have on him, but considering the body was only identified this morning, it isn’t much.”

Hiashi must have very good connections to get hold of high level information so quickly. Kakashi wondered if he wasn’t the only one with contacts in ANBU.

“I’m sure whatever you know will be very useful,” he said. There was definitely more that Hiashi wasn’t sharing with him, but since Kakashi had no intention of mentioning Nara Kaede, he wasn’t going to push his luck.

When Kakashi left shortly afterwards, he went straight to Iruka’s apartment to read through the files and wait for the new bed and mattress to be delivered. This time, no ANBU showed themselves, but Kakashi wasn’t fooled into thinking that meant they weren’t there.

He made a cup of chamomile tea because he only drank it when Iruka made it for him, and curled up in the familiar sofa with the files. Once, partway through his reading, he thought he heard a noise and glanced up, expecting to see Iruka in the kitchen, and then remembered with a jolt why that wasn’t the case.

Over the past five months, Akane had checked out over forty books and scrolls from the archives, most of them from the restricted section. Each time, she’d used her pass code to verify that the permission slips and relevant forms had been received, but Hiashi must have sent someone to check and found the documents missing.

From the titles, it seemed like she’d been researching a way to fix Himura’s eyes. Most of the early books she’d read had been on the subject of vision and transplants, and as she’d narrowed down her search, she’d moved onto materials dealing with medical seals. What she’d done was a serious breach of security, and more than hypocritical, but Kakashi couldn’t find it in him to disapprove of her. Having the clearance to handle restricted materials was different from having the clearance to read them. If she’d gone through the proper channels, she probably would have been denied access. If someone Kakashi cared about was in the same position as Himura, he couldn’t honestly say that he wouldn’t have done the same thing. The only thing Kakashi couldn’t understand was why she hadn’t approached a medic in the first place. Perhaps she had, and for whatever reason she’d decided it would be more efficient to do the research herself. Kakashi would have to speak to Himura again to find out.

Matsuoka’s file was, as Hiashi had warned him, sparse. He’d been a chuunin ranked medic, specialising in chakra pathways. Kakashi had ruptured his own pathways previously and knew it was one of the most difficult areas to treat. He read on, noting that Matsuoka had been accused of plagiarism a couple of weeks before he’d died, and then he froze as he read the name of the medic who’d accused him.

Well, well. He’d been right about Kaede. Her name was popping up in too many places for it to be coincidence. Kakashi put the file down and stretched out on the couch, staring at the ceiling. Something about Kaede’s involvement wasn’t sitting right with him. Tenzou had said that all three of the victims were targeted for standing up to jounin and specifically for insulting the Hyuuga family. Kakashi had no way of knowing whether Matsuoka fit that profile, but the issue he was having was with Kaede’s motivation. She was also a chuunin, and when he’d spoken to her she hadn’t deferred to him at all. Rather, she’d taken on the role of authority when she’d assumed that he was a potential patient seeking her help.

Kaede obviously wasn’t the killer, but why would she help him if she didn’t share his beliefs about the way lower ranks should behave? Maybe it wasn’t about rank after all, but simply about the Hyuuga clan’s reputation. But why would Kaede care about that? Or perhaps the killer was forcing her. If she’d asked for his help to kill Matsuoka, he could be blackmailing her into making him more seals.

Or maybe Tenzou had started at the wrong end. Kakashi sat up and cast about for a pen, never hard to find in Iruka’s apartment, and then started scribbling on the back of Akane’s archives record. What if they’d got the motive all wrong? What if 3am was doing the heavy lifting but Kaede was choosing the victims? Hiashi had said something the first time they’d met that came back to him now – that the first victim in a string of serial killings was usually personal. Matsuoka was definitely personal – to Kaede. So assuming she was the mastermind behind the killings, what did her victims have in common that would interest her?

After seeing what Akane had been studying, the answer was obvious. All four of the victims had been interested in seals, and their projects had overlapped with Kaede. Matsuoka had stolen her research, Akane had approached her about Himura’s eyes, Eri had worked with her on seal tattoos, and Iruka had been her research partner.

Why had she needed to kill them? So she could take credit for their work? Kakashi didn’t know if there was money involved in Kaede’s research, or how much, but there was definitely prestige and reputation, and considering she’d brought charges against Matsuoka, she wasn’t fond of anyone taking those away from her.

Still, something didn’t quite feel right. Kakashi tapped the pen against his chin and frowned at his notes. It was too much of a coincidence that both Kaede and Haruki had connections with at least three of the victims. Then again, Haruki wasn’t the type of person to hide how he felt about people. Maybe Kaede had approached him because of his antagonism towards the three chuunin she wanted to target. But wasn’t that still too perfect?

The easiest way to confirm his suspicions was to search Kaede’s office and find research belonging to the victims. According to Hiashi’s file, some of Matsuoka’s books and notes had gone missing, and if Kakashi’s theory was right, he’d probably find the work of all four victims hidden away somewhere. Kaede wasn’t the type of person who could bring herself to destroy knowledge, even if it implicated her for murder.

It was decided then. Tonight, Kakashi would leave Sasuke with a couple of his ninken and go down to the hospital to find a way to break into Kaede’s office. It would be tricky – the wards on a place like that would be sealed up tight – but ANBU training had included lock picking techniques designed for exactly this sort of infiltration. With a little luck, he could get his hands on some of that solid evidence Tenzou was so keen on.

Feeling less restless now that he had a plan, Kakashi made himself another cup of tea and settled down to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi has the best ideas.
> 
> On a side note, quick question I've been wondering about since before I even started posting the fic - how do you guys feel about my admittedly excessive use of OCs? Are you genuinely OK with them or are you sort of just putting up with them because you're enjoying the rest of the story? I'm mostly asking because I'm thinking about future fics I intend to write, because OCs are so useful for plot and world building (I'm completely uninterested in canon/OC pairings fyi), but if people do find them alienating I'd try and cut them down. Not that I see myself writing another fic with as many as there are here, unless I do another murder mystery or something similar, because when planning this fic I considered doing without but came across way too many problems. So yeah, thoughts are welcome if you have any on the subject and wish to share them. If not, that's cool too - as you were.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who gave me feedback on the OCs last chapter. It was really helpful to find out what you thought was both good and problematic about them and I'll try and solve the problems in future projects. Also, I've planned the last few chapters now and there are definitely going to be sixteen.

It was already evening by the time Tenzou got to the Nara compound, but he was shown in without complaint. Nara Shikaku was sitting on the veranda at the back of the main building, playing shogi with a boy Tenzou took for his son. They both looked up when he joined them, equally unruffled by the sight of an ANBU in their home.

Shikaku gestured for him to sit. “It’s nice to sit outside on a spring evening, wouldn’t you say –” he glanced at Tenzou’s mask, “– Cat-san?”

Tenzou sat cross legged beside the board. “It’s very pleasant.”

“Although I imagine you’re here about something less pleasant,” Shikaku sighed. “ANBU never come bearing good news.”

His son moved a piece on the board and Shikaku glanced at it before turning back to Tenzou.

“I need to ask you about a member of your clan, Kaede-sensei. She lives here in the compound, doesn’t she?”

“That’s right, though recently she’s been talking about moving out. Apparently we’re too far away from the hospital here for her liking. May I ask why you’re interested in her?”

“She has a possible connection to my investigation.”

Shikaku knew better than to ask what the investigation was. “Hmm.” He turned back to the board and moved a shogi piece. He’d been considering his next move while he was speaking, Tenzou realised.

“Are you aware of any relationship between Kaede-sensei and the Hyuuga clan?”

Shikaku turned to stare past his son’s shoulder. “Tough question. She’s out of the compound so much with work that I wouldn’t really know. I don’t remember her mentioning any friends or colleagues from the Hyuuga clan. Has she said anything to you, Shikamaru?”

“She looked upset when we were talking about Hyuuga Eri’s death,” Shikamaru volunteered, leaning back on his hands and staring at Tenzou’s mask openly. “But I don’t know if they were friends.”

“Have you ever heard her mention a Hyuuga Haruki?”

Father and son exchanged a glance. Shikamaru shrugged.

“Not that I remember,” Shikaku said. “She doesn’t socialise much except with family and colleagues, and even then she doesn’t get much free time because of her research and shifts at the hospital.”

“Were you aware of the plagiarism charges she’d brought against Matsuoka Sho?”

“Oh yes,” Shikaku said without hesitation. “She went on about it for weeks and only stopped complaining when he ran off with those scrolls.”

So Shikaku hadn’t heard about Matsuoka’s death yet. It wasn’t surprising – the body had only been identified that morning.

“How did she take the news of his disappearance?” Tenzou asked.

“Not as badly as I’d feared,” Shikaku said. “I thought she’d be angry, but she suddenly didn’t want to discuss it at all. It’s not like her to give up on something so easily, but I suppose she knew there was nothing she could do.”

“She sulked though,” Shikamaru chipped in. “She was always out or in her room and kept making excuses not to talk to people.”

“How long was she like that for?”

“A few days. Then she pulled herself together.”

Guilt, perhaps, or fear at being found out, which diminished as she realised she’d got away with murder. Tenzou was getting frustrated at being unable to find the connection between Kaede and Haruki, but at least the evidence against Kaede was building up.

“Thank you for your time, both of you,” Tenzou said, deciding to wrap things up. There wasn’t anything else he could learn here. “I apologise for intruding so late and interrupting your game.”

“Good luck with your investigation,” Shikaku said.

There were other people Tenzou could speak to: friends, colleagues, Haruki’s students. But it was getting late and Tenzou was ready to call it a day. Tomorrow he’d dedicate a whole day to finding that connection, but right now he was ready to head home and relax.

It was three hours later that Kawaguchi turned up on his doorstep, still in uniform, though he took the mask off as soon as Tenzou had closed the door behind him.

“Nara’s gone,” he said flatly.

“What do you mean, gone?”

“I mean we’ve lost her. She never showed up at her office, she’s not at home, and I haven’t been able to track her down. I have a whole team out searching for her and I’ve alerted the chuunin guarding the village gates, but no one’s seen her since she left T&I this afternoon.”

Kawaguchi rubbed a hand over his eyes and leaned against the wall.

“3am is hiding her,” Tenzou said. “She must have run to him after we let her go. Fuck. We shouldn’t have scared her so much.”

“We had to,” Kawaguchi said. He sounded exhausted. “She was supposed to get scared and run to hide the evidence. I should have assigned an ANBU to follow her, but I got cocky and thought I knew where she was going. Sorry, Tenzou. I fucked up.”

“We all make mistakes, don’t beat yourself up about it,” Tenzou said. “Look, I’ll get changed and come help you look.”

Kawaguchi shook his head. “Don’t bother. I didn’t come here to drag you out with me, I just thought you should know. You should get some sleep so you can take over tomorrow when I pass out.”

Tenzou paused. He wanted to be out there doing something, but Kawaguchi was right. If they both spent the whole night searching, there’d be no one familiar with the case who could relieve them tomorrow. It was better to take it in shifts and pass the baton on. Besides, Kawaguchi had a team working under him, it wasn’t like Tenzou’s presence would make much of a difference.

“Fine, but come and wake me up if you find her.”

“You got it. I’ll see you tomorrow morning if not before.”

After he’d gone, Tenzou collapsed onto the sofa and stared at the ceiling. It was just as well he’d kicked Kakashi off the case now that Kawaguchi had become more involved. Tenzou idly wondered what Kakashi was planning to do now that he didn’t have Tenzou to rely on. He was under no illusions that Kakashi would stop chasing after 3am, but that wasn’t his problem as long as Kakashi didn’t get in his way.

He really hoped Kakashi wouldn’t do anything stupid.

  


* * *

  


The hospital was quieter at night, but there were still plenty of lights on in the main building. It was about two o’clock and Kakashi didn’t see anyone else about as he slipped past the hospital buildings to the research centre. At this time of night, the whole building was warded, so to save time Kakashi worked out which window led into Kaede’s office and clambered straight up the wall to perch beside the sill. Inside, the room was dark. He hadn’t expected Kaede to be here at this time of night, but you could never tell with academics. They tended to be a little too dedicated to their work.

Kakashi could feel the gentle buzz of wards from here and he withdrew a seal from his pocket. The first stage of lock picking was to determine how much of his chakra the wards could take without reacting, and the safest way to do that was through a seal designed to release small amount of chakra at a time, stopping when the wards began to react but before they tripped an alarm or, worse, a trap.

Once the seal had given him a reading, Kakashi used a jutsu. The aim of lock picking wasn’t to destroy the wards, but rather to trick the warding seals into accepting the lock picker’s chakra signature onto the list of signatures with permission to enter. It was a delicate operation, requiring very fine chakra control, but Kakashi had done this before, and it only took him twenty minutes of concentration before the wards stopped crackling as they allowed him access.

Glancing below to make sure no one had caught sight of him, Kakashi made short work of the lock on the window and slipped inside. Then he lowered the blind and took out a torch, not wanting to use the overhead light and risk someone noticing.

There was just as much clutter as there’d been the last time he’d visited. Kakashi wasn’t sure where to start. Kaede wouldn’t leave stolen material lying around in the open, but there were any number of hiding places in a room so full. Kakashi moved around to the other side of the desk, stepping silently, and knelt by the desk drawers. Might as well start in the obvious place.

He’d opened the first drawer and started rummaging when he heard the rip of the blind being torn from the window. He was on his feet in an instant, and for a moment his blood ran cold as he saw the white glow of the mask. Then he saw the red markings and realised it wasn’t 3am but an ANBU crouched on the windowsill, sword in hand and pointing right at him.

“Drop any weapons and put your hands where I can see them,” a female voice told him sternly. Well, shit. Getting arrested hadn’t been part of the plan.

Kakashi put his torch on the desk and obediently put his hands in the air. A moment later he was pushed down against the desk and the ANBU was fastening his wrists behind him in chakra cuffs.

“For what it’s worth,” Kakashi said conversationally, “this isn’t _entirely_ what it looks like.”

“Which part are you denying?” the ANBU asked. “The breaking or the entering?”

Ah. She had him there. Kakashi let her march him out of the door and hoped there was someone he knew on duty at T&I. Someone who was feeling sympathetic and preferably owed him a favour.

He hoped it wouldn’t be Tenzou. Tenzou was going to murder him.

  


* * *

  


Tenzou lay in bed and listened to the tick of the clock. It was too dark to read the time, but he thought it was sometime between two and three. He’d slept a little earlier, but then woken at some night noise, on full alert, and had been unable to relax enough to fall back to sleep. He’d been lying awake for what felt like an age, considering whether he should give up trying to rest and go out to join the hunt for Kaede.

Haruki was hiding her, he was sure of it. He was itching to storm the Hyuuga compound, but Haruki was ex-ANBU – there was no way he’d be stupid enough to hide her somewhere so obvious, even if he could sneak her past the other clan members. Tomorrow morning the first thing Tenzou would do was put a watch on Haruki, but for now he needed to trust that Kawaguchi had the situation covered. He might even have already posted someone outside the Hyuuga compound. Tenzou wished he’d thought to ask earlier.

The clock ticked away another two minutes. Tenzou rolled over and buried his face in the pillow. Where could Kaede be hiding? Konoha wasn’t that big; her options were limited. It would have to be somewhere away from people who might recognise her, somewhere nobody could stumble upon by accident. Come to think of it, where had she and 3am killed Matsuoka?

Tenzou rolled back onto his other side and stared at the wall before his ANBU instincts took over and he turned back towards the window, barely even noticing. Akane, Eri and Iruka had been attacked in their own homes, but Matsuoka had a family. Even if they hadn’t been home, his wife would have reported it if she’d come home to a bloodstained bed. Had they lured Matsuoka out to the forest and killed him there? Or was the murder site still waiting to be discovered – could that be where Kaede was currently hiding out?

Tenzou sat up and massaged his temples. At this rate he would never sleep again. Maybe he’d go down to the Hyuuga compound and raise hell to see if Haruki would give anything away. It would be better than lying here and doing nothing.

Ten minutes later, Tenzou was locking his door and leaving the house, setting off at a rapid pace towards the Hyuuga compound. This probably wasn’t the best decision he’d made on the 3am case, but he was sure that Haruki knew exactly where Kaede was, and he was damn well going to make him talk.

Outside the Hyuuga compound, he perched on the branch of a nearby tree and took a minute to watch the front gate. It was still and silent; there was no sign of any activity inside. Tenzou dropped lightly to the ground and started to walk towards the gate, intent on waking every last person in the compound if he had to, when another masked figure slipped out of the shadows beside him.

“What’s going on, Cat?”

The lines on his mask were obscured by the darkness, but Tenzou recognised the voice. It was Hawk, an older ANBU who’d nevertheless joined a couple of years after Tenzou. Kawaguchi must have sent him to watch over the compound.

“How long have you been posted here?”

“Since we realised Nara had gone missing. Snail told me to watch for Haruki, but I saw him go inside at about seven and he hasn’t come out since.”

Kaede had left T&I in the late afternoon, at about half past five. That gave her an hour and a half to have sought out Haruki and found a hiding place. In a village as small as Konoha, that was more than enough time.

“I’m going to go and talk to him,” Tenzou said. “He knows where she is, I’m sure of it.”

He tried to take a step forwards and Hawk gripped his arm.

“They won’t let you in without a warrant,” Hawk said. “It’s not worth causing a fuss and making enemies of the whole clan. Not if we won’t get anything out of it. It’s better to keep watch on Haruki and wait for him to lead us to Nara.”

“I’m sick of waiting,” Tenzou said, but he didn’t try to pull free from Hawk’s hold.

“Then go and join the search party,” Hawk suggested. “But don’t fuck things up here because you’re impatient. You’re better than that.”

Tenzou’s shoulders slumped. Hawk was right. If Tenzou was honest with himself, he’d known all along that he was about to do something stupid. He’d let his frustration get the better of him, but he couldn’t let himself compromise the whole case through one bad decision.

“Yeah, OK,” he said. “I’ll do that. Where’s everyone been looking?”

“All over, from what I’ve heard. I think Snail was heading down to the south side of the village – you know, the ghost town. If you find him, he can tell you which ground nobody’s covered yet.”

“Thanks, I’ll get going then.”

The Hyuuga compound was in the south-east of the village, so it wasn’t far to the neighbourhood Hawk had mentioned. The south side of Konoha was the oldest, and sixty or seventy years ago it had still been an important district. There was the old hospital still standing, though these days abandoned and scheduled for demolition, and whole streets of shuttered shops that were now empty. As the village had expanded northwards, the council had decided that it was too dangerous to have important buildings close to the south wall, and began a project to relocate many of the essential services to the centre, encouraging businesses such as swordsmiths and private libraries to also move further inwards, away from the vulnerable edge of the village.

These days, it was known as the ghost town because of the sheer number of empty buildings. The people who lived in the southern neighbourhoods were those who couldn’t afford housing closer to the centre. Refugees from other countries tended to end up living there, along with younger low-ranked shinobi who had no family to support them. Sandaime had plans to renovate the area by knocking down the older buildings that had fallen into disrepair and turning the neighbourhood into a decent place to live. He’d been arguing with the council over the village budget for years trying to move the project forward, and there was slow progress being made.

The roads were dark and empty at this time of night. Tenzou passed silently through narrow streets lined with shuttered windows. People often said the ghost town was as creepy as its name suggested and tried to avoid it after sunset, but Tenzou found it oddly peaceful. There was something relaxing about knowing he was the only living soul around.

Something banged, like wood striking wood, shattering the silence. Tenzou waited, listening, and the sound came again. It was probably nothing, but Tenzou decided to check it out. Hopefully Kawaguchi was also nearby and would have the same idea, leading them to each other.

Passing through a short alleyway, Tenzou emerged onto a parallel street. The wind was stronger here, trapped between the rows of buildings, stilling for a moment before another gust would puff down the street like a cold breath. At the end of the road, Tenzou could see the looming bulk of the old hospital, and the street itself looked mostly abandoned, although sometimes it was difficult to tell at night whether there were still people living in the buildings or not. They all looked rundown and lifeless.

The noise came again, louder now, and Tenzou stepped out into the middle of the road, looking around. On the other side, wedged between an old weapons shop and a building whose sign had faded too much to read, there was a small square of grass set back from the street. A torii gate denoted it as the entrance to a shrine, its paint peeling and the wood starting to rot. The shrine itself was a small building which had probably been built here for visitors from the hospital to pray for the sick.

The banging noise sounded again. It was coming from inside the shrine. Tenzou passed under the torii and climbed the stone steps up to the shrine’s entrance. The door was open, but the room inside was dark and he couldn’t see if anyone was there. As he reached the doorway, he suddenly froze. The smell of blood wafted gently from inside, and as his eyes adjusted minutely to the dark, he saw a movement in the shadows.

Drawing a handful of shuriken, Tenzou stepped inside and quickly darted out of the doorway where he’d be silhouetted against the street. The room before him was large and void of furniture. For a moment, he thought it was completely empty, and then another movement caught his eye, and a sliver of moonlight coming through the window shone dully off a white mask.

It was Kawaguchi, staring up at him from where he was kneeling on the bare wooden floor. Beside him lay a motionless body and a pool of blood, still slowly spreading.

A strong breeze whistled through the building and the shutter hanging loose from a window banged against the wall.

“What are you doing here?” Kawaguchi asked.

Tenzou stepped closer and looked at the body. It was a woman, lying on her front, her head turned to the side so he could see her face. Her throat had been slit and her eyes were open and glassy. It was Nara Kaede.

Kawaguchi drew his hands back from Kaede’s neck. They were bloody.

“She was still alive when I got here. I tried to stop the bleeding, but there was nothing I could do.”

“Did you see who killed her?”

“No. He must have left right before I arrived. She was flaring chakra, he wouldn’t have risked sticking around.”

Kawaguchi sounded as frustrated as Tenzou felt. But he couldn’t have given chase – not when there was a woman bleeding to death right in front of him.

“He’ll still be close by,” Kawaguchi said. “Tenzou, you should go after him.”

There was nothing Tenzou wanted more. He knew the route 3am would take, heading north towards the village centre – if he gave chase now he could probably catch up with him. That knowledge made it even more difficult to stay.

“I’m not leaving you alone,” he said. “He might come back, and there’s no guarantee you could beat him by yourself. He’s dangerous.”

The moon disappeared behind a cloud and Kawaguchi’s mask darkened into shadow.

“I’m dangerous.”

“I’m not leaving,” Tenzou said flatly. “I’ll go outside and send up a flare. Once someone else gets here, I’ll go.”

“It’ll be too late by then.”

Tenzou turned back towards the doorway. “I’d rather lose him today than see your face on the mortuary slab tomorrow.”

Outside, Tenzou used a seal to send up a red flare. The light hung over the shrine, suspended, powered by the chakra in the seal. Tenzou had given it enough to last for maybe ten minutes. Hopefully there were ANBU close enough to make it well before then, although Kawaguchi was right. There was no way they’d catch up to 3am now.

When he went back inside, Kawaguchi was still kneeling next to Kaede’s body.

“Get up,” Tenzou said. “There’s nothing you can do for her now.”

Kawaguchi didn’t move.

“I should have sent someone to follow her,” he said. “She was our best lead. She must have run straight to 3am after we let her go, and he realised she was a liability and killed her.”

“Get up,” Tenzou repeated. “Come on, come sit over here.”

He grasped Kawaguchi’s arm and pulled him to his feet. Kawaguchi followed him obediently to the other side of the room and let Tenzou sit him down against the wall. ANBU were supposed to be hardened to death, but Tenzou knew well that wearing a mask didn’t make you any less human.

They sat in silence apart from the wind whistling every now and then through the holes in the walls.

“We’re going to catch him,” Tenzou said. “Soon. We have almost all the pieces now.”

Kawaguchi nodded slowly. “You let me think he stole my pass code to get that mask, but that wasn’t true, was it?”

Tenzou didn’t say anything.

“You asked whoever did stock take not to talk to me, didn’t you? But it was in the case notes you lent me. 3am broke into my house and put me under a genjutsu while I was sleeping. I stole that mask and that uniform, and I didn’t even know. I keep wondering – why me?”

“The guard I posted at your house is still on watch there every night.”

Kawaguchi looked at him for a long time.

“Hey, Tenzou?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for staying here with me.”

“I’ll put it on your tab.”

  


* * *

  


Iruka had woken up early that morning and hadn’t been able to get back to sleep. He wished that 3am had been considerate enough to stab him without having to impale him as well – having wounds in both his front and back made it very difficult to find a comfortable position to sleep in.

His doctor had said he might be able to go home today, and in an hour or so he was due to have a meeting with her and the ANBU in charge of his security, who was currently standing outside his door, taking a shift as his guard. She’d introduced herself to him as Phoenix and now that he’d spoken to her a few times, Iruka felt bad that he was still uneasy when he glimpsed an ANBU mask outside his room. He also felt bad when he considered how boring it must be, having to stand in a hospital corridor for hours at a time, on the off chance a killer might decide to saunter into his room and finish him off.

Naruto was sitting on one of the chairs, reading a comic that Sasuke had brought him and swinging his legs contentedly. He hadn’t left the hospital since Iruka had been admitted, relying on Sasuke and Sakura to bring him fresh clothes and whining at length about the quality of hospital food. Iruka had told him more than once that he could go home, but each time Naruto had vehemently refused.

The door opened. Iruka glanced up and wasn’t surprised to see Sasuke, although it was unusual for him to visit without Sakura. What _was_ surprising was the pug that trotted in at Sasuke’s heels, complete with its own hitae-ate.

Naruto brightened immediately. “Sasuke, you got a dog? That’s awesome! Can I play with it?”

The pug gave him a disapproving glance. “You certainly cannot.”

Naruto almost fell off his chair in shock. “Oh my God, it can talk!”

“This is Pakkun,” Sasuke said, ignoring Naruto and talking to Iruka. “He’s one of Kakashi’s ninken.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Pakkun,” Iruka said uncertainly.

Pakkun walked over to the bed, frowned up at it, and then looked meaningfully at Sasuke, who lifted him up and onto the mattress next to Iruka.

“We think something’s happened to Kakashi,” Pakkun said, getting straight to the point. “He went out last night and never came back. I tried to track him down and ended up at T&I. The kid here said we should come and tell you.”

Sasuke glared at Pakkun, annoyed at being called a kid. Now that Iruka paid more attention, he could see that Sasuke was worried and trying to hide it.

“Why would Kakashi-san be at T&I?” Iruka wondered aloud. “Did he tell either of you where he was going last night?”

Sasuke shook his head. “He just said he’d be gone for a few hours and that he’d be back before dawn. But we waited all morning, and then Pakkun went out to look for him, and I didn’t really know who to ask about it.”

“If he’s at T&I it might be confidential,” Iruka said. “But try calling in Phoenix and we’ll see if she’s heard anything.”

He was fairly sure Phoenix had been listening in – what else did she have to do except monitor his conversations? – but if she had, she was good at hiding it. She waited for Naruto to yell her name before stepping inside, closing the door behind her.

“I know you heard all of that,” Pakkun said before Iruka could so much as open his mouth. “Do you know what’s going on: yes or no?”

Iruka didn’t know what expression lay behind the mask, but Phoenix’s voice gave nothing away when she answered.

“Hatake-san was arrested last night for breaking and entering.”

“What?” Iruka stared at her, sure he must have somehow misunderstood. “Where? Why?” He was aware of his ineloquence but couldn’t manage, through his shock, to get beyond the basic questions.

“I’m afraid that’s all I know,” Phoenix said evenly. Iruka wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth or if that’s all she was permitted to reveal.

“He was probably doing something stupid trying to figure out who 3am is,” Sasuke said. “They’ll let him go. He’s not a criminal, just an idiot.”

Iruka wasn’t sure it was wise to mention Kakashi’s vigilante mission in front of an ANBU, but if he’d really been arrested he’d have to explain himself anyway.

“Why did no one tell Sasuke about this?” he asked, aware that Phoenix probably had nothing to do with Kakashi’s arrest but unable to keep the disapproving expression off his face. “He’s been staying with Kakashi-san these last few days. Someone should have let him know what was happening.”

Sasuke looked away, probably embarrassed, but Iruka kept his eyes trained on the ANBU.

“I imagine no one knew,” Phoenix said. “But we’ve had a busy night, so it might have been an oversight. I’m very sorry about that, Sasuke-kun. If you need somewhere else to stay for a while, I can try and help you with that.”

“It’s fine,” Sasuke mumbled. “I’ll stay at Kakashi’s house. I don’t think he’d mind.”

“Will you be all right there by yourself?” Iruka asked.

“I’ll be there too,” Pakkun reminded him. “We’ll be fine. Kakashi added him to the wards.”

Iruka smiled softly. He got the feeling sometimes that Kakashi doubted his own teaching ability, but it was the small things that proved, at least to Iruka, that Kakashi was more than cut out to be responsible for children. Iruka was suddenly overcome by a wave of longing. He missed Kakashi. The note Kakashi had written him was in the drawer of the cabinet beside his bed, and although Iruka could recite the words from memory now, he still took it out every now and then when Naruto was asleep or out of the room to trace his fingers over the familiar handwriting.

“Do you know how long he’s likely to be kept at T&I?” he asked.

“Hard to say,” Phoenix replied. She hesitated, and then said, “I believe it’s a little more complicated than a standard breaking and entering charge.”

“Complicated how?” Pakkun asked sharply.

Phoenix didn’t answer, and Iruka’s stomach clenched.

  


* * *

  


Kakashi understood why he’d spent the night in a cell at T&I. He understood that he’d fucked up, and that he’d be lucky to escape formal charges. What he didn’t understand was why it was taking so long for someone to come and speak to him so he could try and smooth everything over.

The holding cells had small barred windows, reinforced by any number of seals and wards, and there was an uncomfortable bed and a toilet surrounded by three hard walls and a row of bars. The ANBU had taken his vest away and given him a very thorough frisking, removing every hidden weapon on his body and, in what Kakashi thought was a gesture of unusual cruelty, his well-thumbed copy of Icha Icha Paradise. They’d left him uncuffed for most of the night, which was standard for low risk prisoners, but a couple of hours before dawn someone had come and clasped a chakra-repressing metal cuff around each of his wrists. They weren’t the sort that bound his hands together, but it was still rather alarming that they’d apparently changed their minds about his status and wouldn’t tell Kakashi why.

Since then he’d been left to his own devices, which mainly consisted of sleeping, waiting, and trying to sleep more to avoid the waiting. The gut rotting boredom was killing him.

He’d resorted to push ups by the time an ANBU opened the door to his cell and gestured for him to follow. Kakashi was hoping he’d remove the cuffs, but he made no move to do so. It wasn’t that Kakashi needed or wanted to perform jutsu right now, but there was something deeply unnerving about knowing he _couldn’t_.

There was another ANBU waiting for him in the interview room, and Kakashi recognised the spiral design on the mask.

“Kawaguchi, long time no see.”

Kawaguchi gestured to the seat opposite him. “Sit down, Kakashi.”

Behind him, the door closed as the second ANBU left.

“Mind telling me why you were breaking into Nara-sensei’s office last night?”

No pleasantries then. Strange – Kakashi would have pegged Kawaguchi as the type who’d let him off with a slap on the wrist, if only to avoid the paperwork, but there was no friendliness in his tone.

“It’s kind of a long story,” he said.

“Give me the short version.”

Had he done something to piss Kawaguchi off? They’d got along well enough when Kakashi was in ANBU and he’d seen Kawaguchi at irregular intervals since then. Kakashi glanced down again at the cuffs on his wrists. What exactly was going on?

“I thought Nara-sensei might have something to do with the 3am killings so I broke into her office to look for evidence.” 

“Investigating homicides is an ANBU job. You handed your mask in years ago, Kakashi.”

“I have a personal interest in the case.”

“Which is?”

“Iruka-sensei is a close friend of mine.”

“Was anyone else involved in your vigilante activities?”

Kakashi didn’t care how much trouble he was in – he wasn’t going to drag Tenzou down with him. “No, I was acting alone.”

Kawaguchi hadn’t moved since Kakashi had entered the room. His hands were clasped together on the table between them, his spine erect, his eyes trained on Kakashi’s face. Kakashi might have found it unnerving if he didn’t know how it felt to be on the other side of an ANBU mask.

“Why did you think Nara-sensei was involved in the murders?”

“Her name kept cropping up all over the place. She was connected to all the victims, and when I spoke to her she acted suspiciously.”

“What did you expect to find in Nara-sensei’s office?”

Kakashi recognised the interrogation technique. Jumping from topic to topic kept the suspect off-balance and made it harder for them to remember what they’d said. If they were lying, they’d find it difficult to stick to their story later. But Kakashi had nothing to hide except Tenzou’s involvement, and he was paying close attention to make sure he didn’t let that slip.

“Maybe nothing. I wanted to test a hypothesis. All of 3am’s victims were involved in some form of research related to seals. My theory was that Nara-sensei was killing them, or having them killed, so she could steal their work.”

Kawaguchi drummed his fingers on the desk, once, rapidly, and then was still again. Kakashi had no idea what the reaction meant and didn’t try to guess. ANBU were too hard to read to bother trying.

“Nara Kaede was murdered last night at approximately 2:45am,” Kawaguchi said.

That was why. That was why they’d woken him up to attach the cuffs to his wrists and why they’d taken so long to speak to him, and why Kawaguchi was treating him like the suspect in a crime far more serious than attempted burglary. Kakashi leaned forwards across the table.

“Who killed her?”

Kawaguchi let the silence stretch out a beat.

“I was hoping you could tell me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi has the worst ideas.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I was creative enough to give all my chapters proper names, this one would be called 'No Bed Posts'.
> 
> Also, brief fyi, an antiemetic is a drug to prevent vomiting.

When the medic arrived for Iruka’s evaluation, Sandaime was with her. The room was getting crowded, so Naruto and Sasuke was shooed out into the corridor, Pakkun in tow, and Iruka heard Phoenix ask them to take over her post while she came inside. He had to stifle a chuckle as he glimpsed Naruto, chest puffed out proudly at being trusted to take over an ANBU guard, and Sasuke raising an eyebrow beside him.

Once Phoenix had closed the door behind her, she joined the medic at the end of the bed. Sandaime had sat in Naruto’s vacated chair.

“I didn’t expect you to be here,” Iruka said. Sandaime’s expression was worrying him. He looked too serious to be here purely to check up on him.

“I have some news, but it can wait until after your evaluation. It’s good to see you looking better, Iruka. I’m sorry I couldn’t visit more often, but it’s been a busy week.”

Iruka nodded. The chuunin exams were due to start tomorrow. He was amazed Sandaime had found the time to visit him at all. He wondered if, even now, there were harassed chuunin scouring the Tower for him. Whatever news he’d brought must be important and it made Iruka uneasy.

“Let’s start with your physical,” the medic said. She leafed through the medical notes at the end of Iruka’s bed, plus some more she’d brought with her. “The shift from jutsu to physical painkillers has worked well. Only the usual side effects: some vomiting and drowsiness.” She flipped a page. “Your physio has been progressing fairly quickly. Can you walk across the room and back for me?”

Iruka manoeuvred himself carefully off the bed, trying not to let the pain show on his face. He wanted to go home as much as he dreaded returning to the room where he’d almost died. He wondered what he was going to do about the blood that must have soaked thoroughly into his mattress by now, and then pushed the thought away. One step at a time.

Walking around the room was a slow struggle, but Iruka was getting used to the deep ache that pulled at his stomach when he moved. As he made it back to the bed, the medic nodded to herself, apparently satisfied.

“Medically, I’m happy for you to go home, but on the condition that you either stay with a friend or have someone check up on you regularly throughout the day. Do you have a friend or neighbour who’d be willing to do that?”

Kakashi, Iruka thought, and wished he were an option. He wasn’t stupid – no one had told him why Kakashi hadn’t visited after that first day, but he’d guessed. Even if Kakashi was busy with his investigation, he’d still have made time to come and see Iruka if he had the choice. It hadn’t taken much wondering for Iruka to connect the dots between male, genjutsu and ANBU. He didn’t know for sure that Kakashi had been ANBU, of course, but considering Kakashi’s elite status, it was far from an unreasonable assumption.

“Naruto wanted to stay with me,” he said instead, “but I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” He looked at Phoenix. “I mean, from the point of view of his safety.”

“We’ll obviously keep a guard on your house until the man who attacked you is caught,” Phoenix said. “I’ll also have someone improve your wards, unless you want to do that yourself. I hear you’re more than capable. If anything, once we’ve updated the security, your home should be safer than the hospital.”

Iruka relaxed a little. “That’s good to hear.”

“You should perhaps ask someone older than Naruto to check in on you,” Sandaime said. “I know he has your best interests at heart, but Naruto is still a child.”

“I know,” Iruka said. “I wouldn’t want to force that much responsibility on him anyway. I have a friend who lives in my building. Hagane Kotetsu. I think he’d be happy to look in on me every now and then. Although –” Iruka frowned, suddenly remembering that Kotetsu was busy at the moment, “– he might be a little too involved with the chuunin exams.”

“If he’s happy to, I can have someone schedule his hours so he has frequent breaks to visit you.”

Kotetsu would be over the moon to have more breaks, Iruka knew. “Thank you, hokage-sama.”

“Excellent,” the medic said. “In that case, I’m happy to let you go home this afternoon. I’ll go and write up a prescription for you now. I can only give you a week’s worth of painkillers at a time, and then we’ll consider lowering the dose. A nurse will come by each morning and give you an anti-emetic injection. I’ll also arrange a check-up for a week’s time. All right?”

She left, and Iruka heard Naruto immediately pipe up, asking if Iruka was allowed to go home, before the door closed behind her and cut him off mid-sentence.

Sandaime shifted on his chair. “Iruka, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but I didn’t want you to hear it from gossiping nurses. Nara Kaede was murdered last night.”

Whatever news Iruka had been expecting, it wasn’t that. He started to respond and then stopped as he realised he didn’t know what he wanted to say. Sandaime was watching him with sympathy.

“Who killed her?” Iruka asked.

“I wish I knew.”

“Was it him?” Iruka said lowly, as though afraid to be overheard. “The same man who attacked me?”

Sandaime started to reach for his pipe before remembering himself. “She wasn’t attacked like you were, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Iruka-san,” Phoenix said, a slight edge of warning in her voice. “I understand that Nara-sensei was your friend, but we can’t give you details of an ongoing ANBU investigation.”

Usually, Iruka would have flushed and apologised after an admonishment like that. Instead, he pushed his luck further. “Why is Kakashi-san at T&I?” He was still looking at Sandaime. He saw Phoenix fold her arms disapprovingly in his peripherals.

But Sandaime was no more yielding. “Phoenix is right, Iruka. I can’t tell you that. You can ask him youself if he’s released.”

Iruka felt the creeping dread he’d been trying to squash curl around his lungs and squeeze. “What do you mean, _if_?”

Sandaime stood. “No one is above the law, not even Kakashi. I need to get back to work, but I’ll come and see you again when I can. Please take care of yourself.”

“Hokage-sama!” Iruka clenched his fists around the sheets. “Kakashi-san isn’t the person who hurt me. He didn’t kill those women. If that’s what you think –” He couldn’t bear the thought, and almost choked on his sentence. “You’re wrong,” he forced out, voice trembling with conviction.

When Sandaime turned to him, his expression was unreadable. “Can you prove that?”

“I don’t need to,” Iruka snapped, aware of how naive he sounded and not caring. “I know him. I trust him. Do you think I’d let him train Naruto if I didn’t?”

“You didn’t trust him at the chuunin exams meeting,” Sandaime said mildly, and Iruka felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. “If it makes you feel any better, that isn’t why he was arrested. I know you’re upset, Iruka, but your life is at stake. I have no intention of putting you at risk any more than you already are.”

He waited a beat, but Iruka could only stare down at the sheets bunched in his hands. He knew that Sandaime was only looking out for him, and ANBU as well, and he didn’t want to act ungrateful, really he didn’t. But Iruka _knew_ Kakashi. He knew how Kakashi kept Iruka’s favourite brand of tea in his house, even though he never drank it himself, and he knew how Kakashi laughed and meant it even when Iruka’s jokes weren’t funny, and he knew how Kakashi’s fingers felt tangled through his, briefly, shyly, but in a rush of comfortable affection they’d never spoken about because they’d never needed to.

ANBU could think what they wanted, but Iruka knew. Kakashi would never hurt him.

  


* * *

  


The door to the interrogation room was flung open and Tenzou burst in. He was wearing his mask, but Kakashi could tell by his body language that he was angry. Shit, Tenzou didn’t think he was involved in this too, did he? He was still reeling from Kawaguchi’s veiled accusation as Tenzou rounded on Kawaguchi.

“What are you still doing here? You were supposed to go home and sleep.”

“ANBU never sleeps,” Kawaguchi quipped. It was a phrase that was spoken by non-ANBU with fear or respect, but overworked ANBU had adopted it as a sardonic complaint to make during a twelve hour shift. “If that’s all you wanted to say, you could have picked a better time. I’m kind of in the middle of something.” He gestured towards Kakashi.

Tenzou glanced at Kakashi and then turned back to Kawaguchi. “I heard about the breaking and entering. Why is he cuffed? That’s a minor charge.”

“It was minor until Nara was killed.”

“Kakashi couldn’t have done that,” Tenzou snapped. “I checked the logs. Kakashi had already been brought in by the time Nara-sensei died.”

It was probably too early to believe that Tenzou was here purely to save him, but Kakashi felt a surge of hope regardless.

“Isn’t it a little too coincidental?” Kawaguchi asked. He looked at Kakashi, clearly speaking for his benefit too. “At exactly the same time that Nara is lured to an abandoned shrine and murdered, Kakashi is breaking into her office. As though, perhaps, the two acts were orchestrated.”

“Or as though I suspected I wouldn’t get caught in the middle of the night,” Kakashi suggested.

“And it’s mere coincidence you picked this particular night.”

The interrogation had started up again. Tenzou hesitated before taking the seat next to Kawaguchi. Kakashi felt a pang of relief and guilt. He’d been a complete prick to Tenzou the last time they’d spoken, yet Tenzou was right here, refusing to abandon him. As soon as he got a chance, Kakashi was going to apologise and make things right.

“You said you thought Nara-sensei was stealing the 3am victims’ research,” Kawaguchi said. Tenzou looked at Kakashi sharply, no doubt wondering why Kakashi hadn’t shared that theory with him. “Did you think she was 3am?”

“No,” Kakashi said. “She didn’t fit the profile.”

“And how, exactly, do you know about the profile?”

“I was there when Iruka-sensei reported to the hokage.”

“Then you’re aware that you also fit the profile.”

“Kakashi, did you know Fujimoto Akane, Hyuuga Eri or Matsuoka Sho?” Tenzou asked.

He already knew the answer. He was asking for Kawaguchi’s benefit. “I met Eri-san once,” Kakashi said. “When she gave me the ANBU tattoo. As far as I know, I never met either of the other two.”

“But you think Nara-sensei was choosing the victims, isn’t that right?” Kawaguchi asked. “You said they were all connected to her. So it doesn’t really matter whether you knew them, not if you were killing whoever she told you to.”

“Sounds like you’re getting desperate,” Kakashi commented. “You could accuse anyone with logic like that.”

Kawaguchi seemed unruffled by the jibe. “Where were you on the nights of the 13th, 24th and 29th of April?”

“Probably home alone sleeping,” Kakashi admitted. Only three dates, he noted. They weren’t sure exactly when Matsuoka had died.

“When did you first meet Nara-sensei?” Tenzou asked. Another question that would go in Kakashi’s favour.

“The day before yesterday. I went to her office to try and find out if she was involved with the attacks. She was suspicious, and that’s why I broke in again last night.”

Kawaguchi was staring at him, but didn’t speak. He was out of options, Kakashi knew. They could charge him with breaking and entering Kaede’s office, but there was no way they could connect him to her murder, or any of the 3am killings.

“Are we done?” Tenzou asked. A look passed between him and Kawaguchi.

“For now,” Kawaguchi said shortly. “I’m holding him here for the time being.”

Tenzou didn’t argue. “I’ll take Kakashi back to his cell. Then I need to talk to you.”

Kawaguchi waved a hand in an idle gesture of assent. Kakashi stood up and followed Tenzou out of the door.

“Tenzou,” Kakashi said in a rush as soon as they were out of the room, “thank you for this. I’m really sorry, I know I keep fucking up and making trouble for you.”

“I’m used to it,” Tenzou said blandly, and Kakashi cringed. “Look, I’m going to send Kawaguchi home and try and get you out of here, but it’s not going to be easy. If I do get you released, I need you to promise me you’ll stay away from this case. You’re in too deep now. Anything you do will look suspicious.”

They reached the line of cells, mostly empty. “I can’t promise that,” Kakashi said wretchedly. He didn’t want to cause more trouble, but he also didn’t want to lie. “I promise not to do anything stupid, but that’s the best I can do. I’m sorry, Tenzou, but I can’t rest until Iruka-sensei’s safe. You understand, right?”

Tenzou unlocked Kakashi’s cell and waited for him to step inside. Kakashi didn’t move, waiting for a response. Their eyes locked, and then Tenzou let out a sigh, made loud by the mask.

“I get it,” he said. “Just stop breaking the law. You know, one of these days you’ll do what I say and it’ll give me a heart attack.”

Kakashi smiled and stepped into the cell.

“I owe you one.”

Tenzou snorted and shook his head as he locked the door. As he turned and began to walk away, Kakashi heard him mutter, “Just one?”

  


* * *

  


The walk back to Iruka’s house from the hospital would have been too much for him to handle, but Phoenix didn’t like the idea of taking a cart – too slow, too obvious – so she carried Iruka home using the body flicker jutsu, ignoring Iruka’s many and varied protests. Stairs were also out of the question, but luckily Iruka’s building had an old, rickety lift. Iruka didn’t see any ANBU when he glanced around, but Phoenix assured him that there were two already watching the building.

Once inside, Iruka assured Phoenix that he’d be fine on his own until Naruto and Sasuke arrived. They were following on foot and picking up some shopping on the way, but knowing how competitive they both were, Iruka was expecting them to turn up sooner rather than later, having raced each other across town. Only once he’d thanked Phoenix and locked the door behind him did Iruka take a deep breath and turn to face the silence of his flat.

Iruka had two choices now. He could go inside his bedroom and deal with whatever awaited him on the other side of that door, or he could choose to ignore it for as long as possible. There was also the matter of his wards, which he needed to make more secure as soon as possible, preferably before he went to bed that night. There would be nothing wrong with getting started on that right away.

The silence yawned like a chasm. Iruka took another deep breath. He’d known it wouldn’t be easy, coming back here, but the sooner he dealt with this, the sooner he could start to move past it. He had to do this. Ignoring it would only make him feel more pathetic than he already did at the prickle of fear tingling inside him.

His way down the hall was slow, but Iruka didn’t allow himself to use the wall as a support. The medic had insisted he bring the walking stick home, but it was sitting against the wall by the front door where he’d left it and he had no intention of using it any more than he’d done in the hospital. He was _all right_. He was capable. He could do this by himself.

The bedroom door was ajar and Iruka paused outside it. His pulse was fast and he chewed on his lip without noticing. A third deep breath, and then he reached out and opened the door.

There was a new bed sitting in the middle of the room, made up neatly with fresh sheets that Iruka didn’t recognise. The room smelt of washing detergent and the hint of sawdust that came with new wooden furniture. Iruka stood in the doorway and stared.

Could ANBU have done this? Surely Phoenix would have mentioned it if they had. Iruka’s stomach twinged; he needed to sit down. He went over to the bed and paused to pull back the duvet. The sheets beneath were pristine white, and he didn’t need to pull those back to know that the mattress would also be new. Iruka sank down on the side of the bed, and then eased himself back onto the pillows. They were larger and softer than he remembered. Everything really had been replaced.

He was still sitting on the bed when he heard Naruto’s key scrape in the lock and then the shout of “We’re here!” that rang through the hallway.

“I’m in the bedroom,” Iruka called. He heard the rustling of shopping bags from the kitchen and then a pair of rapid footsteps in the hallway that paused just before the bedroom.

Naruto stepped into the room almost as warily as Iruka had, and then stared at the bed with a similar expression of surprise. “When did you get a new bed?”

“I don’t know,” Iruka said. “I didn’t know I had one until I got here.”

“Sasuke,” Naruto hollered, prompting Iruka to shush him. Despite living in a flat himself, Naruto couldn’t seem to grasp the concept of being quiet so as not to bother the people living on the other side of Iruka’s walls. Then again, Naruto didn’t seem to grasp the concept of quiet in any context.

“What?” came Sasuke’s voice from the hallway. He trudged into view to join Naruto in the doorway. Naruto pointed at the bed.

“Do you know where that came from?”

Sasuke looked at Iruka. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Kakashi bought you a bed.”

Iruka looked down at the bed again, this time with a smile curling the corners of his mouth. Of course it had been Kakashi. “When did he do that?”

“Yesterday.” Sasuke leaned against the doorframe a little awkwardly. “Sakura and I helped. Kakashi’s really bad at furniture shopping – he kept fussing over things and changing his mind, and he forced me to test at least ten different mattresses.” His tone implied that this had been an agonising hardship. Iruka tried desperately not to laugh.

“Thank you for helping,” he said. “It’s lovely. I’m really grateful.” Sasuke shrugged and mumbled something incoherent. “I’ll come and help you put the shopping away.”

“No, don’t do that,” Sasuke said hastily. “I can figure out where everything goes.”

“I _know_ where everything goes,” Naruto bragged. “You just sit there and rest, Iruka-sensei. We’ve got this under control.”

He dragged Sasuke back out towards the kitchen, chattering loudly and ignoring Sasuke’s attempts to get a word in edgeways. Iruka adjusted the pillows behind him and idly listened to the sounds of cupboards opening and closing beneath the rise and fall of Naruto’s voice. He felt calmer now that there was noise.

Iruka stroked his hand along the sheets beneath him. He’d have to remember to pay Kakashi back and thank him the next time he saw him. Iruka hoped that would be sooner rather than later.

As he sat and listened, Iruka looked again the the bed, and suddenly realised why Kakashi had been so fussy, as Sasuke had phrased it. He’d been looking for something particular.

The headboard on Iruka’s new bed was flat and smooth. There were no bed posts.

  


* * *

  


Tenzou dragged himself out of the ANBU offices and seriously debating heading home for a nap before he went to give Kakashi the good news. Since he’d marched Kawaguchi back to his apartment and ordered him to sleep for at least five hours, he’d been pulling every string he could find to try and get Kakashi released. Since Kaede was no longer able to press charges and the hospital had backed off when Tenzou had casually mentioned that Kaede might have been involved with a string of homicides, he’d managed to get Kakashi off the hook at least enough to not have to stay in a cell any longer. It had only taken three hours and all of his energy.

It had taken years off his life when he’d heard in the ANBU offices that Kakashi was detained in T&I for breaking into Kaede’s office, and another few years when he’d arrived to find Kawaguchi interrogating him. He understood, of course, why Kawaguchi found him suspicious, but he couldn’t help being annoyed that instead of going home to rest like Tenzou had asked him, Kawaguchi had got to Kakashi first and made the whole misunderstanding even bigger. If Tenzou had realised a little earlier, he could have had Kakashi cleared and back on the streets before lunchtime.

He’d spent most of last night supervising the crime scene, and then this morning he’d prioritised the body and rushed it through for an immediate autopsy. The findings had answered one or two questions but raised more.

At the shrine, ANBU had found signs that two people had been meeting there recently. Hidden in an alcove where an icon had once stood, there were two calling seals. ANBU tattoos were a more sophisticated example of calling seals, which were sets of seals that reacted to each other. Activating one would cause the others in the set to activate as well, alerting its owner with heat or light. They couldn’t transmit a specific message, so they were generally used to summon shinobi to a pre-arranged meeting point. An activation of an ANBU tattoo, for example, meant they were being summoned to the hokage’s office. Each of the seals in the shrine was from a set of two, and they found the partner seal of one of them in Kaede’s pocket. Whoever she’d been meeting could have called her any time by activating the seal in the alcove, and she could call them by activating the second seal. Whoever owned the fourth calling seal was probably The 3am Killer.

In another hiding place they’d found a small stack of chakra repressing seals, which for Tenzou proved beyond any doubt that Kaede had been working with 3am. He’d sent a couple of ANBU to canvass the nearby neighbourhoods, and he’d given them photographs of Kaede and Haruki to show to residents in the hopes that someone had seen them together.

Kaede’s body had been photographed and examined at the scene, and then been rushed to the hospital so quickly that Honda, the same medic who had taken Tenzou through Matsuoka’s autopsy, had complained that she was still warm. She’d been killed with a single, deep slice across the throat. From the angle, Honda had said she’d been attacked from behind, which to Tenzou suggested she’d either been ambushed or had trusted her killer enough to turn her back on him. From Kaede’s position in the shrine and the blood splatter on the wall and floor, Tenzou thought it was probably the latter. She hadn’t been standing near the door or windows, and if she’d fled to the shrine to call 3am, she would have been watching the entrances. It would have been too hard even for an ANBU to sneak up on an alert chuunin with no openings.

From the evidence, Tenzou had mapped out a theory for the events that had happened yesterday. Kaede had left T&I at half past five and either found some place to lay low and think or had run straight to the shrine. There, she’d used the calling seal to notify 3am that they needed to meet. 3am clearly hadn’t shown up straight away, either because he’d been preoccupied with something else or because he and Kaede had an agreement to meet at a certain time when the calling seals were activated. 

3am had probably arrived not long before Kawaguchi had started searching for Kaede in the ghost town, and he and Kaede had spoken for a while. Kaede had probably told him about the interrogation and 3am had realised that Kaede was too much of a liability and needed to be disposed of before she led ANBU straight to him. Then he’d either tricked her into turning around or had waited for her to give him an opportunity to strike. Kaede had flared her chakra, and perhaps fearing that someone would feel it and come to investigate, 3am had then fled with no time to remove the seals from the shrine.

Why had he attacked Kaede from behind? Tenzou assumed the method of killing was different from the other victims because 3am hadn’t planned on killing Kaede until he’d learnt about the interrogation. He probably didn’t carry his sword everywhere, and since he hadn’t had chance to put up any noise or chakra repressing seals, he’d gone with a method designed to stop Kaede from screaming and to kill her quickly. Yet although he’d held Iruka down and watched him struggle, he hadn’t been able to look Kaede in the face while he killed her. That may also have been the reason why he hadn’t simply snapped her neck – there was something too close about feeling someone’s bones snap under your fingers, their body slumping back against your chest.

He hadn’t wanted to kill her. That’s what Tenzou concluded. He’d been close to her, or liked her enough that he couldn’t bear to see what he’d done to her. Apparently even monsters could feel remorse.

What he wanted to do more than anything else was head to the Hyuuga compound and ask where Haruki had been last night, but he’d been so busy all morning that he hadn’t even had chance to find Hawk and ask if he’d seen anything. Although, going by the timeline, Haruki should have already left the compound by the time Tenzou had spoken to Hawk, so he must have sneaked out some way that Hawk hadn’t known about.

Tenzou lifted a hand to rub his tired eyes and was taken aback when it bumped against his mask. Well, if that wasn’t a sign that he needed to sleep, he didn’t know what was. He was going to liberate Kakashi from T&I, and then he was going to take a nap.

Kakashi was doing sit ups when Tenzou arrived at the cell, but he stopped as soon as he saw Tenzou through the bars.

“Can I leave yet?” he asked. “I’m _so bored_.”

Tenzou didn’t even have the energy to roll his eyes. Instead, he unlocked the door. “Give me your wrists.”

Kakashi bounded up with enthusiasm and stuck out his hands. Tenzou used a small key to unlock his cuffs, stashing them in a pocket, and Kakashi sighed happily as he admired his now naked wrists.

“You’re free to go, but this isn’t over,” Tenzou said. “You do one more stupid thing and you’ll be right back here and nothing I do will get you out. Do you understand?”

“I get it,” Kakashi said. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

Tenzou led him through the corridors to the office, where Kakashi’s personal items were returned and he was formally signed out and discharged from ANBU custody, and then Tenzou walked him out of the building.

“I take it we’re done working together,” Kakashi said once they were outside and alone again.

“How did you guess?” Tenzou asked dryly. “If I had it my way, you’d stay at home and behave until I catch this guy, but we both know that’s not going to happen.”

“I can’t,” Kakashi said simply.

“I know,” Tenzou groand. “Just, Kakashi, if you find something out, please come and tell me. In fact, I need to talk to you about whatever you and Kawaguchi were going on about. Something about Nara-sensei and the victims’ research?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a theory. I think you’ve been connecting your victims all wrong.”

Tenzou would dearly love to hear more, but he didn’t have time for this right now. “Hold that thought. I’ll come by your place when I next get a minute and you can tell me all about it then.”

Kakashi looked far too happy at the prospect of talking to Tenzou about the case. “Sure. I’ll be around.”

“You know, we have a warrant pending for Nara-sensei’s office,” Tenzou said. “In fact, it’s probably been approved by now. You could have told me this theory and what to look for and then none of this would have happened.”

Kakashi rubbed the back of his head. “Well, when you put it like that, it sounds so reasonable.”

Tenzou sighed. He was starting to feel the pinch of a headache behind his eyes. “You’ll be the death of me one day.”

Kakashi looked at him seriously. “If you were the one who’d been hurt by some madman, I’d still be doing everything in my power to take him down. You know that, right?”

Behind the mask, Tenzou’s lips quirked into his first smile of the day. “You can sweet-talk me as much as you like, but you still owe me. Big time.”

Kakashi smirked. “Don’t I always?”

  


* * *

  


Iruka had just finished modifying his ward seals when he heard the commotion outside. He was sitting next to the front door, keeping one ear trained on Naruto, Sasuke and Pakkun, who were cooking and arguing in the kitchen, when he heard voices from behind his door. At first he thought nothing of it, but then one of the voices was raised in anger, and Iruka recognised it.

If he’d been less ripped apart inside, he’d have sprung to his feet and flung the door open, but he had to settle for painfully and carefully raising himself and then taking a brief moment to recover before unlocking and opening the door.

Outside, an ANBU was standing in front of his door, blocking the path of the other shinobi who stood facing her. It was Kakashi, and he was glaring at the ANBU, but his expression softened as soon as he saw Iruka.

“Kakashi-san,” Iruka blurted out. He tried to step outside, but the ANBU threw an arm out, blocking the way. Behind him, he heard Naruto and Sasuke dashing into the hallway to see what was happening.

“Hatake-san isn’t allowed to be here,” the ANBU said. It wasn’t Phoenix, but Iruka recognised her as one of the other ANBU who’d taken shifts guarding him at the hospital.

“I just want to talk to him,” Kakashi started, but the ANBU interrupted.

“You’re not allowed any contact. You know that. Go home and wait until you’re told otherwise.”

“No,” Iruka said forcefully. “I understand you’re trying to protect me, but don’t I get any say in this? There’s no need to keep Kakashi-san away from me. Just let him in for a little while.”

The ANBU half turned towards him, keeping an eye on Kakashi. “I’m sorry, Iruka-sensei, but that’s not possible right now.”

And suddenly Iruka realised how sick he was of not being in control of his own life. Kakashi was _right there_ for the first time in days and Iruka would be damned if he let him leave because some stranger was too blind to see that Kakashi wasn’t a threat to him.

“No, this is what’s going to happen right now,” he said, turning on the ANBU with the look he used to silence rowdy classes in a heartbeat. “Kakashi-san is going to come inside, because this is my house and I get to decide who I invite in. If he turns out to be a serial killer and murders me, you’ll know who to arrest, but frankly I don’t think anyone’s stupid enough to hurt me when ANBU _knows_ they’re with me. Do you seriously believe that if you let him inside I’m going to die?”

The ANBU had tensed up defensively. “I’m just following orders.”

“Even when they make no sense? ANBU-san, I am choosing to take the risk, so please step aside and give me some say in who I let into my own house.”

The ANBU gave him a long look. Then she stepped aside.

“Twenty minutes,” she said. “And if he hasn’t come back out by then, I’m reporting it.”

She didn’t leave as Kakashi stepped over the threshold, and she was still staring reproachfully at Iruka as he closed the door.

“Wow, Iruka-sensei,” Naruto said with awe. “I’ve never seen anyone yell at an ANBU before.”

Iruka smiled weakly. “I’ve been told I’m good at yelling at people.” He leant back against the door, tired suddenly, and Kakashi was instantly by his side.

“Are you all right?” It felt good to hear his voice again.

“Yeah.” Iruka’s stomach twinged and he winced. “I just need to sit down.”

“You should take him back to the bedroom, boss,” Pakkun said, looking unconcerned at the fuss Kakashi had been causing. “The kids will finish making dinner.”

Sasuke nodded and grabbed Naruto, dragging him back into the kitchen and ignoring Naruto’s protests.

“Welcome back, boss, nice to see you’re OK, boss,” Kakashi muttered, and Iruka chuckled.

Kakashi’s arm snaked around Iruka’s waist, slung low to avoid the wound in his back, and Iruka tried not to lean on him too much as he guided Iruka slowly towards the bedroom. They didn’t speak until Iruka had sat back against the pillows, Kakashi perching on the edge of the bed beside him.

“Why did you come here?” Iruka asked, and then realised how it sounded and flushed. “I mean, not that I didn’t want you to come, but you’ll probably get in trouble.”

Kakashi smiled, not seeming the least bothered. “I was looking for Sasuke and heard from the hospital that you’d been released, so I thought I’d push my luck and make sure you were all right. You know I’d have visited you every day if they hadn’t stopped me, right?”

“I know,” Iruka said softly. “Thank you for cleaning up my room. I was actually really worried about that. You need to tell me how much I owe you for the bed.”

Kakashi raised his hands as if warding off the suggestion of repayment. “You don’t owe me anything. Consider it a gift.”

Iruka frowned. “But it must have been expensive.”

“Seriously, don’t worry about it.”

Iruka let it go. He didn’t want to spend the small amount of time they had together talking about money. “I heard you spent the night in T&I. Is that all sorted now?”

“More or less. Though I might be back in cuffs if the ANBU at your door decides to report me after all.”

He’d said it light-heartedly, making a joke, but Iruka leant forwards, distressed at the thought.

“Then why did you come here? Kakashi, I really did want to see you, but not if those are the consequences! Why would you risk something as serious as that?”

Kakashi reached out and grasped his hand, and Iruka squeezed it tightly. “Because it’s worth it. Because I had to see you. Iruka, tell me honestly, are you all right?”

Iruka looked down at their joined hands. Kakashi was holding him just as tightly as he was holding Kakashi.

“I’m fine,” he said, but it came out sounding small. Iruka winced internally. He didn’t want to seem pathetic in front of Kakashi.

“You don’t have to be fine,” Kakashi said. “No one expects you to be. Hell, _I’m_ not fine, and I’m not the one who got hurt.”

Iruka kept staring at their hands, and they were both silent for a moment. Then Kakashi pulled his hand away and Iruka looked up, alarmed, but then Kakashi moved further up the bed, perching next to Iruka against the headboard and motioning for him to shuffle up. Iruka complied slowly, and then Kakashi settled next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, close enough for their sides to touch.

“Hey, this is pretty comfy,” Kakashi muttered. “I have excellent taste.”

Iruka chuckled weakly, and then a sob caught in his throat. Kakashi’s arm tightened around him, and then Iruka turned and buried his face in Kakashi’s neck, clutching at his shirt, and Kakashi’s hand came to rest on the back of his head, stroking his hair, and Iruka had never felt more useless.

“You’re right,” he said. “I’m not fine. You know, I always knew I’d never be strong enough to make jounin, and I was OK with that. I never felt weak. There’ve been plenty of times I’ve gone up against jounin and beaten them – I know how to fight a stronger opponent. But that – that man, he was in a completely different class. The only reason I’m alive is because he made mistakes, and if he comes back for me, he won’t fuck it up a second time. I’m nothing compared to him, and I hate knowing that.”

“Iruka,” Kakashi murmured, but Iruka wasn’t finished. Now that he’d started letting everything out, he couldn’t stop.

“I was conscious for most of that night. After I’d slowed the bleeding I tried to free myself and call for help, but it was all a waste of effort. And then I gave up and just lay there, for hours and hours. At first I was waiting for someone to find me, but in the end – in the end, I was waiting to die.”

Kakashi’s arms tightened around him, and Iruka felt cloth-covered lips press fiercely against his temple.

“This is going to be over soon,” he said. “I promise. We’re going to catch that guy and lock him away, and then I’m going to come and look after you until you’re all right again. But, you know, Iruka, there’s nothing wrong with feeling like this. There’s nothing wrong with being scared or upset or angry, not after what happened to you. You think it makes you weak, but that’s not how I see you.”

Three loud bangs sounded from the front door. Iruka tensed, but Kakashi didn’t move.

“Kakashi-sensei,” Naruto called hesitantly.

“Fuck,” Kakashi muttered. “Tell her I’ll be out in a minute,” he shouted.

Iruka pulled back so he could look up at Kakashi. “You have to leave,” he said. “Don’t get in any more trouble because of me.”

“I know,” Kakashi said. He hesitated, arms still wrapped around Iruka. “I probably won’t be able to see you for a while,” he said, speaking quickly now, “but you’ll be safe here. And I’m going to do everything in my power to catch that fucker.”

“Hatake-san,” the ANBU called from the front door. “Get out here _now_.”

Iruka pushed at Kakashi, who reluctantly let him go and slid off the bed. “Go. I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will.” Kakashi hesitated again, and then he leant back down and cupped his hand around Iruka’s face and kissed him on the lips. It was brief, and the mask was a barrier between them, but it still caused Iruka’s breath to catch in his throat. He reached up to touch Kakashi’s hand and their fingers rested together for a moment before Kakashi pulled away.

“Be careful,” Iruka said. Kakashi nodded.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

And then he was gone. Iruka heard the ANBU admonishing him, and Kakashi briefly speaking to Sasuke, and then the front door shut behind them and the key clicked in the lock.

Iruka closed his eyes and made a vague noise of acknowledgement when Naruto called to say the food was almost ready. He felt like he’d run a mile, and he already missed Kakashi, but he also felt calmer than he’d done for the past few days. Iruka raised a hand to his lips. It was going to be all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi and Iruka sharing a scene together? In _my_ KakaIru fanfic? What is this madness?


	11. Chapter Eleven

Tenzou blinked back into reluctant wakefulness and rubbed his eyes. A quick glance at his watch showed that he’d been napping in the ANBU offices for two hours. Tenzou sat up and yawned. It said something about ANBU that their offices included a dedicated room for napping, complete with several futons and a permanently drawn blind.

There was no one else currently using the room, so Tenzou didn’t bother to be quiet as he put away the futon and pulled his armour back on. It was already past six o’clock, but Tenzou had one more thing he needed to do before he’d let himself go home and sleep properly.

There was a note on his desk, and Tenzou recognised Kawaguchi’s lazy handwriting. Clearly he’d decided he was fit to work the evening shift, and the note informed Tenzou that the warrant for Kaede’s office had been approved and so Kawaguchi was going through her hundreds of books, scrolls and files. Tenzou didn’t envy him the task.

The shifts rota showed that Hawk had been watching the Hyuuga compound until 4am last night, and he’d started another surveillance shift there just over an hour ago. Slipping his mask on, Tenzou headed out of the offices and started towards the Hyuuga compound at a rapid pace.

When he arrived, he leaned against a nearby tree, not close enough to the compound that he’d be spotted by a casual observer, but close enough that an ANBU would take note. In less than a minute, Hawk appeared noiselessly beside him.

“It wasn’t him,” he said before Tenzou could speak. “Haruki didn’t leave the compound at all last night while I was on shift. He was here when Nara was killed.”

That wasn’t what Tenzou had wanted to hear. “He must have slipped past you. There could be ways in and out that we’re not aware of.”

Hawk didn’t react, but Tenzou knew he was annoyed. He would be too if someone dismissed his intel out of hand, but he didn’t have time to be polite. He _knew_ that Haruki had left the compound last night and murdered Kaede – he simply needed to figure out how.

“Talk to Hiashi if you want,” Hawk said coolly, “but you’re looking in the wrong place.”

Tenzou waved him off irritably and started towards the compound entrance. Hawk didn’t understand – he only knew whatever Kawaguchi had told him in the surveillance brief. He didn’t know how all the pieces fit together around Haruki. Every piece except Nara Kaede, and if Tenzou could link Haruki to her murder, the big picture would be complete.

He was told at the gate that Hiashi had been expecting him today, and was promptly shown through to a small, traditionally furnished room to wait. Tenzou sat uneasily, not sure what it meant that Hiashi was expecting ANBU to call. They hadn’t spoken since Hiashi had chased him away from Eri’s funeral, although Kakashi had met with him since then. Tenzou dearly hoped that Kakashi hadn’t got overzealous with sharing information.

Hiashi appeared a few minutes later and seated himself opposite Tenzou, with the low table a buffer between them.

“How may I help you, ANBU-san?”

“Don’t you know?” Tenzou asked. “I was told you’ve been expecting me.”

Hiashi laced his hands together on his lap. “Did you think I was unaware that you’d placed surveillance on my home? After I heard about another murder last night, I thought you might pay me a call.”

There were whole paragraphs going unsaid, and Tenzou listened carefully to try and catch them. “Nara-sensei’s death doesn’t look like a 3am killing in any way. We haven’t made any statement connecting them. Yet you thought I’d have a reason to come and talk to you, even though you know exactly which case I’m investigating. Did someone tell you Nara-sensei was involved?”

Hiashi’s eyes narrowed. “A lot of people tell me things.” That was as good as a yes.

“A member of your clan is a person of interest in my investigation. Do you know who I’m talking about?”

A beat of silence passed as Hiashi weighed up his options. “I hear you had a confrontation with Haruki yesterday.”

“Then we’re on the same page,” Tenzou said. “Are you aware of whether Haruki-san left the compound last night?”

Hiashi shifted slightly, and Tenzou’s hopes fell as his expression curled into what could only be described as smug. “As a matter of fact, I can tell you for certain that he spent the entire night at home. After his suspected involvement in the murders came to my attention, I placed Haruki under a curfew. His chakra signature was removed from the wards between ten o’clock last night and seven this morning, preventing him from leaving.”

A deep cold coiled around Tenzou’s gut. Clan compounds were notorious for having wards almost as complex as those at the Hokage Tower – lock picking them would take hours, and that was assuming you could find someone skilled enough to do the job successfully. Even if Haruki had the skills, there was no way he could break out of the compound undetected by either Hawk or a member of the clan. It was a solid alibi.

“If you’d like to speak to him yourself, you’re more than welcome to,” Hiashi offered. Tenzou wanted to punch him.

“No,” Tenzou gritted out. “I wouldn’t doubt your word. Thank you for putting security measures in place.”

“I trust that brings an end to your unfounded interest in Haruki?”

“Actually, no, it doesn’t,” Tenzou said. “I have no further interest in charging Haruki-san with the murder of Nara Kaede, but there are three more murders and an attempted murder in my case file that need solving, and until I can clear Haruki-san of every single one, I’ll remain interested in him.”

Hiashi looked as though he were about to argue, but then he brought himself back under control. “In that case, please hurry up and find some real evidence. And when you do, you can come back here and apologise for wasting everyone’s time.”

Tenzou stood up. “Keep the curfew in place. We wouldn’t want any more murders I could link to Haruki-san.”

When he left the compound, he found Hawk waiting for him.

“He didn’t kill Nara-sensei,” Tenzou said.

“Are we stopping surveillance?”

“No. We’re not done here.”

Hawk folded his arms. “Do we have any real evidence linking Haruki to the murders?”

“This would be much easier if people didn’t question my judgement,” Tenzou snapped. “Do your job and I’ll do mine.”

He left without a backwards glance. It was time to finally get some sleep.

  


* * *

  


Kakashi had arranged to meet Sasuke outside Iruka’s apartment building at eight o’clock, and he was now standing near the front entrance and trying not to make any sudden movements. The ANBU had been unimpressed to see him again, and even though Kakashi had sworn not to take a single step inside, he knew she was still watching him, even though he couldn’t see her.

He’d got here a little early, not wanting to leave Sasuke waiting around when it was getting dark, and he was already bored of standing still and watching people walk past. So when he saw a familiar face turn the corner, he was more than ready to take the distraction. Himura’s tattooed eyes came to rest on him almost instantly, and Kakashi waved.

“Hatake, I didn’t expect to see you out here,” Himura commented as he walked over. “Don’t you live on the other side of town?”

“I’m waiting for someone,” Kakashi explained. “What about you, going somewhere?”

“Heading home. I had a physical this afternoon, and it’s looking like I’ll be cleared for active duty. Just need to pass my psych tomorrow.”

“Good luck,” Kakashi said. Himura smiled, but it was quick, distracted.

“I was actually hoping to run into you again,” he said. “Are you still looking into The 3am Killer?”

It shouldn’t have been a surprise that Himura wanted to pump him for information on Akane’s killer, but Kakashi wasn’t sure he should talk about that with an ANBU breathing down his neck from the shadows. “I’ve had a bit of a setback, so I haven’t heard anything new.”

“Because Nara-sensei died?” Kakashi loved it when other people made excuses for him.

“Yeah, exactly, so I never got the chance to speak with her.”

Himura lowered his voice. “But you think she had something to do with the killings, don’t you?”

Kakashi willed Sasuke to hurry up so he could escape this conversation. “It’s really too soon to say for sure...”

“Don’t bullshit me, Hatake. Yes or no, did she do it?”

Somehow those tattoos made it more intimidating as he stared Kakashi down. Kakashi wasn’t in the mood for this; he gave up.

“No, she didn’t do it,” he said. “But she was probably an accomplice.”

Himura relaxed a little. “Who do you think killed her?”

What kind of a question was that? “3am, obviously. And no, I don’t know who he is or he’d already be dead or behind bars.”

The door to the apartment building opened and Sasuke stepped outside, Pakkun in his arms. He stared at Himura’s face for a moment before realising he was being rude, and then he quickly turned to Kakashi.

“Ready to head home?” Kakashi asked. Sasuke nodded, and Kakashi turned back to Himura. “I’ll be off then, but I’m glad you’re doing well.”

Himura smiled. The tension from a moment ago had disappeared like it had never been there. “I’ll see you around.”

  


* * *

  


Tenzou woke at 7am after a solid ten hours of sleep, and felt much better. He also felt ashamed at the way he’d treated Hawk yesterday evening and made a mental note to seek him out and apologise at some point. He’d been exhausted and stressed, but that wasn’t an excuse to take it out on others.

Kawaguchi was in the offices when Tenzou arrived, head slumped on his desk in a pillow of his arms, a half empty mug of coffee in front of him.

“You look like shit,” Tenzou commented, perching on a chair beside him. Kawaguchi didn’t move. “Did you pull another all nighter?”

“No,” came the muffled reply. “This is just what I look like in the mornings.”

“I don’t think I usually see you in the mornings.”

“I’m an expert at avoiding morning shifts.” Kawaguchi’s head moved up an inch and then sank back down. “Shit. I want to drink the rest of my coffee but I also don’t want to move.”

Tenzou raised an eyebrow. “Your life is such a struggle.”

“You have no idea.” Kawaguchi groaned and then pushed himself upright, groping for his mug and almost spilling the contents in the process.

“Did you find anything in Nara-sensei’s office last night?”

“Yeah, she had a sealing scroll belonging to Umino and everything that went missing with Matsuoka. I left someone else to look through the rest but they left a message saying there was nothing obvious belonging to Eri or Akane-chan.”

“Akane- _chan_?” Tenzou repeated.

Kawaguchi winced at the slip. “Yeah, we go way back,” he admitted. “She was at the Academy when I was there. Himura too, though he graduated before us. They were childhood friends before they got together.”

Tenzou stared at him, aghast. “You never mentioned that! You shouldn’t be working the case if you were friends with one of the victims.”

Kawaguchi shrugged and swirled the dregs in his mug. “We weren’t close, not really. I probably would have stopped speaking to her years ago if not for Himura. And I’m OK, you know. I can do this. I _want_ to do this. Seeing Himura all cut up about it, that made this real for me. I didn’t think I’d end up working this with you when I picked up the Forest body, but I’m glad it led me here. I really want to catch this guy before he hurts anyone else.”

This was a bombshell that Tenzou hadn’t seen coming. Kawaguchi was watching him closely, waiting for a reaction. Protocol dictated that Kawaguchi be dropped from the case, but Tenzou was hesitant to do that for a number of reasons. He liked working with Kawaguchi and found him competent and hard-working, despite all of Kawaguchi’s complaining, and he believed Kawaguchi when he said this wasn’t affecting him. Before today, Tenzou hadn’t noticed anything that would have led him to believe that Kawaguchi was emotionally invested. However, the main reason why switching Kawaguchi with someone else would be problematic was that today was the first day of the chuunin exams, and trying to find someone who wasn’t needed elsewhere would be close to impossible.

“It would be too much hassle to trade you for someone else right now,” Tenzou said. “But you really should have told me about this the moment you realised our cases were connected.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Tenzou sighed and rubbed some sleep from his eyes. He couldn’t really take the moral high ground, not when he’d allowed Kakashi to become involved with an ANBU investigation despite the fact that he fit the killer’s profile to a T.

“So, Nara-sensei had stolen work from Matsuoka-sensei and Iruka-sensei, but not from the other two. Have you checked her house?”

“Nothing there either. I sent someone to go over it last night. But when I say there’s nothing obviously from Eri or Akane-chan, I mean nothing with their names on. My plans for the morning involve finding out if they have anything outstanding checked out from the archives and then checking it against the evidence logs.” He sent Tenzou a long-suffering look. “Do you know how long it took to log everything in Nara’s office? There were two of us working it until nine, and then two others took over and didn’t finish until three in the morning. Who needs that much shit? We couldn’t even bring it back here – we warded everything in her office.”

“What about the scrolls from Iruka-sensei and Matsuoka-sensei?”

“They’re in evidence. Umino’s stuff is in a sealing scroll, though, and it’s S restricted so we’re gonna need to get on the access list before we can check it out, and then we’ll have to get Umino to open it.”

“I’ll take it down to him later,” Tenzou offered. “I’m already on the list. Those seals on his wounds were part of his research so Sandaime-sama cleared me.”

Kawaguchi drained the last of his coffee. He looked a little more alive now. “Cool, you do that. By the way, I have a bone to pick with you.” He folded his arms and gave Tenzou a look. “You went behind my back and let Kakashi out of T&I.”

Tenzou had hoped to avoid this conversation for as long as possible. “He didn’t do it.”

“Sure you’re not just playing favourites because he’s your friend?”

“You have nothing on him,” Tenzou said. “And you’re right, he’s my friend. I _know_ him. If you heard the way he talks about Iruka-sensei you’d know he couldn’t have done it.”

Kawaguchi looked interested at that. “Oh yeah? So the rumours about Kakashi are true then?”

“Which rumours? I’ve lost track of them all.”

“You know, that he doesn’t exactly go for women.”

Tenzou rolled his eyes. “We’re investigating serial homicides and you want to _gossip_?”

Kawaguchi was unabashed. “Hey, if Kakashi and Umino are a thing it’s totally relevant to the case. And I’ve seen Umino’s pictures. He’s a bit of a pretty boy, don’t you think? Is that Kakashi’s type?”

“Why, were you hoping to ask him out yourself?”

“Do you reckon I’m in with a chance?”

Kawaguchi was grinning now, and Tenzou didn’t even want to know if he was serious. He decided to bring the topic back to something useful.

“I spoke to Hiashi-san last night. Haruki-san didn’t kill Nara-sensei. He was locked up in the compound all night, and Hawk confirmed he didn’t leave.”

“So, do we think we were wrong about Haruki, or was it someone other than 3am who offed Nara?”

“I don’t want to rule out Haruki-san just yet,” Tenzou said firmly. “He fits too well with the 3am killings. Did you ever find out if he had a connection to Matsuoka-sensei?”

“I never got chance to ask around,” Kawaguchi said. “That’s on my to-do list for today. But I’m pretty sure Nara chose Matsuoka as a victim, so I might not find anything. He’s different from the others. What I really want is to find his kill site. I don’t think it was the Forest – it’s been too busy over there recently with the chuunin exams prep, so I think he was killed somewhere else and then dumped there. Nara’s death gave me an idea about that, though. The ghost town is a pretty good place to murder someone, don’t you think? Quiet, abandoned, plenty of empty buildings. I’m going to go and check it out, see if I can find anything.”

That was a good idea, although it was a lot of ground to cover. “Could he have been killed at the shrine?”

Kawaguchi shook his head. “No evidence of a second death there. Besides, it would be stupid to keep meeting at a kill site you wanted to keep secret. What if someone trailed one of them there and discovered a nice pile of evidence? No, 3am is smarter than that.”

Tenzou agreed. In fact, he was secretly worried that 3am might be smarter than they were.

“OK, so you’re checking for evidence linking Nara-sensei to Fujimoto-san and Eri-san and then trying to find a connection between Haruki-san and Matsuoka-sensei. I’m going to check that sealing scroll out of evidence and ask Iruka-sensei about it. As for Nara-sensei’s death, we have the notes from door-to-door interviews, so I’ll read those and find out if anyone saw anything suspicious last night. And we’re still waiting on the autopsy report, but I’m not expecting much from it.”

“You should help Tadaomi with the shifts rota,” Kawaguchi said admiringly. “You’re good at scheduling. I thought the chuunin in this village had laid claim to all the organisational skills.”

“Just do it.”

“Yes, sir!”

  


* * *

  


The streets seemed busier than usual as Tenzou made his way to Iruka’s house. There were lots of foreign shinobi in town preparing to take the first of the chuunin exams later that day, and those that had come to watch and support them. Tenzou wondered how the 3am killings were affecting the exams. Sandaime must have had a hard time explaining everything to the visiting dignitaries. Tenzou wondered if they’d even bothered to turn up or if they’d decided it was too much of a risk and stayed at home.

Naruto answered when he knocked at the door, and he squinted at Tenzou’s mask for a moment before recognition dawned.

“Iruka-sensei’s in the shower,” he said as he let Tenzou in. “He might be a while. He does everything slowly at the moment.”

“That’s fine,” Tenzou said. “I can wait.”

He sat on the sofa in the lounge and listened to Naruto banging on the bathroom door down the hall. “Iruka-sensei, that ANBU from the hospital is here. You know, Kakashi-sensei’s friend.”

Faintly, Tenzou heard Iruka’s reply. “Cat-san? Please tell him I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Naruto bounced back into the lounge and sat at the other end of the couch, tucking his legs under him and staring critically at Tenzou’s mask.

“You don’t really look like a cat,” he decided.

“Oh? What do you think I look like?”

Naruto leaned forwards, scrunching up his face in thought. “Like someone who’s had a really bad day. The mouth is all grumpy.”

Tenzou bit back a surprised laugh. “Well, sometimes that’s quite fitting.”

Naruto sat back again. “Did you paint it yourself?”

“No. We have an artist who paints the masks for us. I chose to be a cat though.”

“Why did you choose a cat?”

How did Iruka-sensei put up with this onslaught of curiosity? Never mind Naruto, how did he put up with a whole class of children? Were they all so full of questions?

“I like cats,” Tenzou said simply. “Which animal would you choose if you were ANBU?”

“I’m not gonna be ANBU,” Naruto said. “I’m gonna be the hokage.” His face brightened. “Could I be both? Do they let the hokage join ANBU?”

Tenzou was saved from replying by the sound of the bathroom door opening, and Iruka turned the corner, hair damp and dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt. His face was very pale, and Naruto sprang to his feet and dashed over to let Iruka lean on him as he came slowly over to the couch.

“Are you all right?” Tenzou asked. “I can come back later.”

“No, it’s fine,” Iruka said, wincing as he sat down where Naruto had been sitting. “Simple things are a bit of a struggle at the moment, but I need to do them so I can recover as quickly as possible.”

“You’ll get better if you rest more,” Naruto grumbled. Tenzou sensed this was an argument they’d had several times. “I’m going to make you breakfast.”

“That can wait until Cat-san’s gone,” Iruka protested.

“No, you need to eat. Cat-san won’t mind.”

“Naruto-kun’s right,” Tenzou agreed.

Naruto gave Iruka a smug look before walking around the counter to the kitchen half of the room. “Do you want any breakfast, Cat-san?”

Iruka looked appalled. It was considered bad manners to offer an ANBU food or drink as they couldn’t take off their mask to accept, but Tenzou wasn’t offended.

“I can’t eat while I’m in uniform,” he said, pointing to his mask. Naruto’s mouth made a small o of realisation.

“What can I help you with, Cat-san?” Iruka asked before Naruto could ask another myriad of questions.

“I wanted to ask you a few questions about Nara Kaede,” Tenzou said. Iruka looked surprised.

“I thought her death had nothing to do with the other attacks.”

“We’re not sure it’s the same killer,” Tenzou admitted, “but there’s definitely a connection between Nara-sensei and the 3am case. Have you seen Nara-sensei since you were attacked?”

“Yes, she came to visit me the first day I was in hospital.”

“How did she seem to you?”

“Shocked. Upset. The usual reactions when someone you know has been hurt.” Or the reactions of someone who’d expected Iruka to die.

“And what did she talk to you about?”

“She asked if I was OK, offered to help me if I needed anything...oh, and she wanted to know if my research was somewhere safe.” Iruka scratched the bridge of his nose sheepishly. “It was actually pretty badly hidden, so I asked her to keep it safe for me.”

“Did you ask or did she offer?”

Iruka opened his mouth and then closed it, frowning. “I don’t remember. She brought up the subject, but I might have told her to take the scroll. I’m not sure.”

Tenzou rummaged in the pouch at his hip, seeking Iruka’s sealing scroll. As he did, Naruto brought a plate of toast and jam and handed it to Iruka, who smiled and thanked him.

“Iruka-sensei, is this the scroll containing your research?” Tenzou asked.

Iruka balanced the plate on his lap. “Yes, that’s right.”

“I need you to open it for me. I have permission from the hokage to view the contents.” Tenzou handed Iruka the permission slip. Iruka scanned the short note and then nodded, handing it back.

“That’s fine, but Naruto, can you go to your room for a while? You don’t have the clearance to see this.”

Naruto pouted but left the room without putting up a fight. Once he’d gone, Iruka touched the scroll, infusing it with a small amount of chakra and then opening it as the seal unlocked.

Inside the scroll were mostly research notes, crammed messily into a notebook, some chakra paper with seals that Tenzou recognised as versions of the tourniquet seal Iruka had used to save his life, and a scroll that bore the mark of restricted information.

“Just one reference scroll?” Tenzou asked, surprised.

“I have some more books, but they’re not restricted so I don’t have to seal them. I can get them if you want.” He stood up, and Tenzou could see the effort in his face.

“I can fetch them if you tell me where they are,” he said hurriedly, also rising. Iruka shook his head.

“They have some pretty complicated titles. It’ll be easier if I find them.”

Tenzou hovered beside him as Iruka crossed the room to the bookcase, not wanting to be patronising but also nervous that Iruka might hurt himself. However Iruka seemed perfectly capable of covering the short distance, albeit at a careful pace. When they reached the bookcase, Iruka took a couple of books from one of the shelves, then reached for another and paused.

“This isn’t right,” he muttered.

“What’s wrong?”

Iruka’s eyes were scanning the rest of the books. “I had these books in a specific order, but these two are the wrong way round. And there.” He pointed to another book on the top shelf. “That one’s in completely the wrong place.” He turned to Tenzou. “Did ANBU go through my books?”

“No, we were only interested in your room. There was no need to search the rest of the house. Are you sure you didn’t put them back wrong?”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Iruka said firmly. “That one’s in the wrong _section_. It makes no sense at all.” He frowned at the books. “Someone’s taken the books off and put them back wrong.”

Tenzou remembered Kakashi’s theory, that the victims were being targeted because of their research. “Is anything missing?”

Iruka took a moment to look at the books. “I don’t think so. I can’t be entirely sure, but it looks like everything’s still here. Why would somebody go through my books and not take anything?”

Tenzou turned and looked at the restricted scroll lying on the couch next to Iruka’s toast. “Maybe he didn’t find what he was looking for.”

Iruka followed his gaze. “You think the killer is interested in my research?” Tenzou had expected more doubt in his tone and was interested that it wasn’t there.

“Let’s sit back down,” Tenzou suggested. “I’ll carry these.” He took the stack of books and carried them over to the coffee table where he set them down in a pile. There were four volumes, but Tenzou suddenly wasn’t interested in any of them. He was sure that the killer had been searching for the scroll.

“What exactly is this scroll about?” Tenzou asked, picking it up and opening it.

“It’s full of highly unethical medical seals,” Iruka said. “Mostly it’s concerned with prosthetics made from human flesh. Replacing missing limbs with body parts harvested from corpses, or even living people. It’s really horrific.”

“How on Earth could you find that helpful?” Tenzou asked. “Aren’t you creating first aid seals?”

“That’s right. I’m not interested in the seals in this book, but there are also some keys for the base symbols used, and those have been incredibly helpful. I’m still at the stage where I’m designing the base symbols for the seals I want to create – the tourniquet seal I made was purely the result of some doodles I was playing around with.”

Tenzou stared at him. Iruka didn’t seem to realise the enormity of what he’d just said. He’d saved himself from dying through _doodles_ that he’d never tested. Was that what it meant to be a seals expert or was Iruka some kind of genius in his own right?

“Have you finished the base symbols?” Tenzou asked.

“Almost.” Iruka opened the notebook and showed him a page of labelled symbols. Three of them had marks next to them, and Iruka pointed to these. “These three need improvements, but the rest are ready for seal development testing.”

“If Nara-sensei had these symbols and this scroll, could she complete the work?”

“Probably,” Iruka said. He looked at Tenzou warily, not liking the implications. “You think she sent someone to kill me so she could steal my research?”

“Is it worth much money?”

“A fortune,” Iruka said. “Nothing like this exists. It could save countless lives. I was going to donate it to the village, but if you sold it to another village, you could make a lot of money. And the fame and reputation you’d gain would be astronomical.”

That was as helpful as it was troubling. While Tenzou was glad for the evidence piling up around Kaede, it was making him question the motive that had led him to suspect Haruki.

“Do you mind if I keep hold of your research for a while?” he asked.

“That’s fine. Let me add your chakra signature to the sealing scroll, it’ll make it easier for you to store it all.”

“Would you mind if I also added my partner’s signature when he’s been put on the approval list?”

“Not at all, please feel free.”

Iruka used a jutsu to switch the sealing ward on the scroll from closed to open. Instead of attacking the next foreign chakra signature to touch it, it would now accept it as a secondary key alongside Iruka’s own signature. Iruka held the scroll out and Tenzou touched it, infusing it with his chakra.

“All done,” Iruka said. “There’s no rush to get it back to me. Please keep it for as long as you like.”

“I wish everyone was as helpful as you,” Tenzou said longingly, and Iruka laughed.

“I wouldn’t want to make life difficult when you’re trying so hard to protect me,” he said. “Besides, the more I help, the faster you can find the killer, right?”

Iruka seemed better than when Tenzou had spoken to him in the hospital. Less haunted, less tense. But there was still something dark hidden behind that light-hearted tone, and Tenzou wanted to melt the fear away. People like Iruka didn’t deserve to suffer like this.

“I hope so,” was all he could say.

  


* * *

  


Seeing Iruka last night had put Kakashi in a good mood. _Kissing_ Iruka last night had put him in a _very_ good mood. He’d known for a while that something was developing between himself and Iruka, but he hadn’t wanted to rush things. Kakashi hated the awkwardness of dating. Dates were like weird scheduled meetings where the agenda was getting to know each other so both parties felt like they’d made an effort before they had sex. Kakashi had always found it forced and artificial, and he’d given up on the whole concept.

Iruka hadn’t seemed to want that either. Kakashi had never before clicked with someone so perfectly that he felt like he knew what they were thinking, but that was the unspoken understanding he felt between himself and Iruka. He’d never thought he was misinterpreting Iruka’s feelings when Iruka brushed his hand against Kakashi’s as they walked together, or when he gave Kakashi fond private smiles, and Kakashi knew without a doubt that Iruka understood his affection too. They were simply giving it time and letting their friendship – still new and blossoming – become something stable before they moved it forwards. And Kakashi was more than all right with that.

However, he was also perfectly all right with taking things to the next level now, and the anticipation of kissing Iruka properly the next time they saw each other only increased his resolve to clear his name once and for all by catching the real 3am Killer.

Unfortunately, there were other parts of his life that also needed dealing with, including but not limited to the state of his kitchen, which was, in a word, empty. If Kakashi had still been living alone, he’d have simply eaten out for a few days until he could be bothered to restock the cupboards, but starving Sasuke probably counted as child abuse, so the two of them had spent the past hour shopping for food.

When they arrived back at Kakashi’s apartment, they found Tenzou standing outside the door. Kakashi’s nerves gave a little thrum of excitement. No doubt Tenzou had come by to grill him about his seals theory as he’d said he would, but this was Kakashi’s chance to try and wheedle some information out of him.

“I thought you might come by last night,” Kakashi commented, dumping his shopping into Tenzou’s arms so he could rummage for his keys.

“Yesterday was a long day,” Tenzou replied. “I saw Iruka-sensei this morning,” he added as they went inside.

“How is he?” Kakashi asked. Tenzou clearly hadn’t found out he’d seen Iruka last night, and he intended to keep things that way. He threw a warning glance at Sasuke behind Tenzou’s back. Sasuke raised a haughty eyebrow in reply.

“Better than he was when I last saw him,” Tenzou said, putting the bags of shopping down on the kitchen counter. “Though it looks like full recovery might take a while.”

“The doctor said six to ten weeks,” Sasuke volunteered. “Unless it gets complicated.”

Kakashi stared at him. He hadn’t heard this. “Define complicated.”

Sasuke started putting food in the fridge. “It could get infected, or the scar tissue could cause internal problems, or if Iruka-sensei keeps trying to do too much it could interfere with the healing process and –”

“Maybe that’s enough worst case scenarios,” Tenzou interrupted hastily.

Sasuke glanced up and saw Kakashi’s face. “He’s not going to _die_ ,” he said, voice heavy with scorn. It made Kakashi feel a little better, having his fears dismissed as though they were ridiculous. “Are you going to help me put this stuff away or not?”

“Maa, you’re doing a good job by yourself,” Kakashi said, ignoring the answering glare. “I need to talk to Cat for a while.”

He ignored Sasuke’s annoyed muttering and led Tenzou through to the living room. He thought they’d sit on the couch, but Tenzou remained standing, so Kakashi stood too.

“I want to keep this brief,” Tenzou said. “Tell me what you were talking about yesterday. About how the victims are connected.”

Well, OK, Kakashi could play it his way for a while.

“I was trying to approach it from the other side,” he said. “I don’t think 3am was choosing the victims, I think it was Nara. Because of Matsuoka – I heard about him from Hiashi, before you ask – and because I noticed all the victims had a link to seals and that’s what connected them all to Nara. I thought maybe she was having them killed so she could take the credit for their work.”

“I was actually thinking something similar, about Iruka-sensei’s work anyway,” Tenzou said slowly. “But Fujimoto-san wasn’t a researcher. What makes you think she knew anything about seals?”

“You remember I told you that Fujimoto was checking restricted scrolls and books out of the archives illegally? She was researching a way to cure Himura’s blindness. I think his seal tattoo might be based more on her work than Nara wants to admit. I have a record of everything she checked out if you want to see.”

“Kawaguchi’s getting the records for her and Eri-san. I’ll have them by this afternoon anyway. Is that everything, Kakashi?”

He was getting ready to leave and Kakashi couldn’t let him.

“There’s something else I want to talk to you about,” Kakashi said.

“I’m sure there is,” Tenzou said. “But I’m trying a new thing where I don’t always give you what you want.”

“I don’t think Haruki is 3am.”

There was a moment of weighted silence. “Two days ago you were convinced enough to attack him and now you think he’s innocent.”

“I think he’s an asshole and I think he’s the one who attacked Iruka-sensei four years ago, but I don’t think he’s a serial killer.”

There was another stretched out moment, and then Tenzou sighed. He sat down on the couch, which Kakashi took as the sign of defeat that it was. Tenzou was at least going to hear him out. Kakashi sat beside him and leaned forwards earnestly.

“If Nara was choosing the victims, the motive you used to profile Haruki is meaningless. It could well be coincidence that Fujimoto, Eri and Iruka-sensei were all the type to stand up for themselves. Does Matsuoka fit that pattern?”

“I don’t know,” Tenzou admitted reluctantly. “Kawaguchi is looking into that today.”

“If we accept that Nara was hiring an assassin to kill off those she considered a threat to her prestige as a researcher, then we have to re-profile the killer.”

“It doesn’t mean Haruki-san didn’t do it. He hated three of the victims and didn’t make it a secret. If Nara was looking for an elite assassin, he’d be a good choice. It’s possible there are two motives at work here that happen to coincide.”

“It’s too perfect,” Kakashi insisted. “Two people who both want to kill the same set of victims, and they manage to find each other and plan a series of murders? Have you found any tangible evidence of a connection between them?”

“Not yet. But there’s no such thing as ‘too perfect’ in investigations like this. The most obvious answer is usually the right one. That’s how reality works.”

“Maybe, and you can keep looking into Haruki as much as you like. But you also need to go back to your list of ANBU and find out if any of them had a connection to Nara. Look again at the victims, look at the other people involved like the ANBU who stole the mask. Check out Nara’s finances, find out if she was paying the killer, because if she wasn’t then he needs to have a motive of his own. Was he in love with her? In debt to her? Was she blackmailing him? Did she promise to split the money from her research with him? If you dig deep enough there’ll be traces. You can already cross a couple of those off the list, actually.”

Tenzou’s shoulders were tight with suppressed irritation. “And which would those be?”

“Well, considering he killed her the moment she became a liability, he probably wasn’t her lover. And if he was greedy enough to kill people for money, he wouldn’t off his meal ticket, so that probably wasn’t the case either.”

“Assuming it was 3am who killed her.”

Now it was Kakashi’s turn to stare at Tenzou. “Wait, you don’t think he did?”

“The MO was completely different. Her throat was slit from behind and he didn’t stick around to watch her die.”

“Genjutsu?”

“Doubtful. Why bother to sneak up on a victim from behind if you can make them bare their throat to you?”

Kakashi’s brain ticked into overdrive. “If 3am didn’t kill her, the only other likely motive is that someone else found out she was involved with the murders.”

“A revenge killing,” Tenzou said, and Kakashi could almost hear the gears grinding in his head too. “Someone with a personal connection to one of the victims.” He gave Kakashi a look. “It’s a really good thing you have an alibi.”

Kakashi barely heard him. He’d made the final leap. Someone who wanted revenge for the killings and knew that Kaede had been involved. He could only think of one contender.

“Shit,” he said. “I told Himura about Nara.”

“Himura Daiki?” Tenzou tapped a finger against his mask.

“It fits. He was really interested at the time. Pestered me to tell him if I dug up solid evidence on her, but I blew him off. Maybe he was watching her and noticed all the ANBU attention and figured that was good enough for him to be sure.” He thought of the brief conversation they’d had last night outside Iruka’s block of flats. “I saw him yesterday and he asked me again if Nara killed Fujimoto. He was really – _intense_. And he asked me something weird. He asked who I thought killed her, as though I might think it wasn’t 3am. He was fishing to see if he had to worry about being caught.”

“Hold on, slow down.” Tenzou was staring at the wall, thinking. “You’re getting overexcited. We can’t say for sure it wasn’t 3am just because the MO was different. It’s something I’m considering, but at the moment it’s a theory with no supporting evidence. The circumstances between Nara-sensei’s death and the serial killings are completely different. If it was a decision he made on the spur of the moment, then of course it would look different to the 3am killings. Maybe he even wanted it to look different, to try and throw us off the scent. He doesn’t know how much we have on Nara-sensei, so he might still think he can distance himself from her.”

He was wrong. Now that Kakashi had seen it, he was sure. Tenzou hadn’t seen the look in Himura’s eyes when he’d asked about Kaede, he didn’t know what it was like to lose someone and know who was guilty and not be able to prove it. Kakashi understood. He’d almost lost Iruka, and even that near miss was enough to make him lose his normally tightly wound control. He’d attacked Haruki and broken into Kaede’s office, and he was still prepared to put his freedom and his reputation at risk. If Iruka had died, he couldn’t honestly say that he wouldn’t have murdered Haruki that day on the training field.

“Aren’t you even going to look into it?” he asked.

“I don’t have the time or the resources to chase after every wild theory you come up with. Bring me some evidence and I’ll put it on my to-do list.”

“Does that mean you want me to keep helping you after all?”

Tenzou actually snorted, as though he were making a joke. “Not if you paid me. But since you’re going to keep doing your own thing no matter what I say, I want you to keep me in the loop. If I find out you’ve got information you haven’t shared with me, I’ll throw you straight back in a cell. Understand?”

“When did you become such a tyrant?” Kakashi whined.

“Since you became such a brat, _senpai_.”

Kakashi didn’t have a rebuttal for that.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter yet!

Tenzou went over the interview notes from the ANBU who’d gone door to door in the ghost town after Kaede’s death. From the looks of it, no one had seen anything. Even after being shown photographs of Kaede and Haruki, no one could remember seeing them around the neighbourhood on that day or any other day. Either they simply hadn’t stood out enough to be memorable, or they’d been careful to avoid being seen. Both options were equally likely, but neither of them helped Tenzou at all.

He was still flicking through them and picking at a store-bought bento when Kawaguchi came back to the offices, bearing a plastic container of take-out that smelt a lot better than Tenzou’s lunch. He sat down at the empty desk next to Tenzou’s and snapped apart a pair of disposable chopsticks.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Kawaguchi quipped before putting a meat bun in his mouth and sighing contently.

“You look a lot more alive than you did this morning,” Tenzou commented.

“Wish I could say the same about you.” Kawaguchi was eyeing Tenzou’s bento, where Tenzou was using his chopsticks to balance pieces of sushi on top of each other. “Are you eating that or building a tower?”

“I’m not really hungry. I was hoping for a productive morning but I haven’t managed to do much. Someone looked through Iruka-sensei’s bookcase, probably searching for the scroll he’d sealed with the project you found in Nara-sensei’s office. But we already knew she’d taken his research, so it’s nothing new. Have you had any joy?”

“Do we have to talk shop during lunch? I was hoping for a nice relaxing break.”

Tenzou raised an eyebrow. “We’re ANBU.”

“Right,” Kawaguchi mumbled around a piece of tempura. “I forgot we don’t get nice things.”

“So, what have you got?”

“Not much more than you. Matsuoka doesn’t fit the victim profile we were working with, but we already knew he was different. He hadn’t had any confrontations recently except with Nara. I can’t find any connection between him and Haruki either. I reckon he was all Nara’s idea.”

“Probably. Did you get chance to grab the archives records for Fujimoto-san and Eri-san?”

“Yeah, first thing, but I haven’t had chance to look at them yet.”

That was the story of their lives, Tenzou thought. Too much to do and too little time to do it.

“I feel like our momentum is slowing down,” Tenzou said. “To be honest, I’m afraid we’re about to hit a brick wall.”

“Don’t say that. We’ve got so much evidence against Nara now that all we need to do is figure out who her partner is. There’ll be a trail. There always is. We just need to find it.”

Tenzou nodded, but he didn’t feel as optimistic. There were too many variables now, and his only suspect was looking less and less likely. He had the terrible feeling that Kakashi was right about Haruki, and if that was true he’d be starting almost from scratch.

“How about you come down to the ghost town with me after lunch?” Kawaguchi suggested. “I’m planning on looking for Matsuoka’s kill site. It’ll do you good to get out and about for a while.”

“What about the records you’re meant to be checking?”

“I’m going to glance over them now. If there are any outstanding materials I’ll pass it on to someone else to check it against the evidence in Nara’s office.”

Tenzou thought about it. He didn’t have anything else pressing that he needed to do, and finding the kill site would be another huge step for the investigation. They probably didn’t have the manpower to send out a search team while the chuunin exams were happening, so if he didn’t tag along, Kawaguchi would be exploring a lot of possible kill sites by himself. It would save them time in the long run if they teamed up. And on the subject of their reduced resources, he’d made another decision that he needed to enact.

“OK, I’ll come help you search. Take a look at those records while you finish lunch.” He put the lid back on his unfinished bento and stood up. “I need to nip to the admin office. I’m going to take surveillance off the Hyuuga compound during the nights. There’s no point doubling up security if Hiashi-san’s put a curfew in place.”

“Yeah, that’s a point. Let me know when you’re ready to leave.”

The shifts rotas were available on the internal computer system, but there were also a set of hard copy timetables pinned to the noticeboard in the admin office, and most ANBU stuck their heads around the door to check the shifts there unless they had overdue paperwork and were avoiding Tadaomi. Tenzou would need to change both, and all shifts changes on the system had to go through Tadaomi anyway so he could reassign operatives.

There were a couple of ANBU already at the desk, so Tenzou first went over to the noticeboard to make the hard copy changes. Hawk, Viper and Bear were the Hyuuga surveillance team, and Tenzou found each of their code names and crossed out the relevant shifts before adding a note at the bottom of the paper mentioning that Hyuuga surveillance was no longer necessary between 10pm and 7am. That would help stop Tadaomi from complaining that the 3am case was taking up too many surveillance shifts. It was true that they had a lot of operatives standing around doing nothing, but what could Tenzou do? As well as Haruki, he had ANBU watching over Iruka’s house twenty-four seven and Kawaguchi’s house when he wasn’t working.

Phoenix was currently keeping eyes on Iruka’s building, and Tenzou scanned the lines of text to find Kawaguchi’s guard. Finding the entry, he narrowed his eyes, confused. Someone had drawn a line through the assignment and a note scribbled at the edge of the paper proclaimed that surveillance on Kawaguchi’s house was no longer necessary. The note was signed with Kawaguchi’s signature snail-like spiral.

Tenzou frowned. Kawaguchi hadn’t mentioned dismissing his guard. The rota showed the last three days, and it looked like Kawaguchi had ended his surveillance two days ago, before the night when Kaede had been killed.

The other ANBU moved away from the desk, and Tenzou went over to Tadaomi.

“If you’re here to give me more work, just turn around and walk away now,” Tadaomi groaned. “And if you want me to reassign you more people, forget about it.”

“The chuunin exams are giving you a hard time?”

Tadaomi waved his hands dismissively. “Don’t even talk to me about the chuunin exams. Seriously. Don’t.”

“Well, if you’re short staffed, don’t worry. I want to take surveillance off the Hyuuga compound overnight.”

“Hallelujah,” Tadaomi muttered. He tapped away at the computer, and although Tenzou couldn’t see the screen, he knew Tadaomi was bringing up the shifts rota. “Times?”

“Between twenty-two hundred and oh seven hundred.”

“Got it. Let me adjust the day shift hours or some lucky sod’s going to end up with a two hour shift.”

“Did Kawaguchi say why he was releasing the guard on his house?” Tenzou asked as Tadaomi fiddled with the online timetable.

“Said he felt bad about taking up too many people at a busy time.”

“There was a guard on his house in case a _serial killer_ decided to _murder_ him.”

“Is that what the equipment room theft was all about?” He glanced up and saw Tenzou staring at him. “What, did you think the grapevine woudn’t find out? Mikado was doing stock take, so naturally the whole office knew five minutes later.”

Tenzou repressed a sigh. Clearly it was too much to hope for that highly trained covert operatives would be able to resist the urge to gossip.

“If that was about the 3am killings then it’s a bit of a coincidence that he requested the Forest body,” Tadaomi continued. “Who’d have thought they’d end up connected? It put him right back into the middle of it.”

“He requested the case?” Why did Tadaomi know so much more about Tenzou’s damn partner than he did?

Tadaomi snorted. “He was lined up for three admin shifts with me this week. Told me when he submitted the case request that he would rather deal with dead bodies than other people’s paperwork. Completely shameless, that man. Though at least he’s honest.”

“Honest to a fault,” Tenzou muttered, but his mind was elsewhere. That was three things he’d discovered today that Kawaguchi hadn’t told him, including that morning’s revelation that he and Akane were childhood friends. Tenzou might start to think he’d requested the case with ulterior motives, but there was no way Kawaguchi could have known Matsuoka was connected with the 3am killings until the body was identified.

“Right, all done,” Tadaomi said. “Anything else you needed?”

“No. Thanks. Good luck with the exams stuff.”

“I said don’t mention the exams!”

Kawaguchi had finished eating and was leafing through the archives records for Akane and Eri when Tenzou got back to the open plan office.

“Anything?”

“Nope,” Kawaguchi said without looking up. “Akane-chan returned everything she’d taken from the archives a couple of weeks before she died and Eri had two books on loan which were returned by one of the ANBU who processed the scene.”

“So if Nara-sensei was stealing their research, she didn’t take any archive materials along with it this time.”

“Maybe she wised up after Matsuoka.”

“Yeah, could be. Kawaguchi, why did you dismiss your guard?”

Kawaguchi looked up at that. “They had better things to be doing. I got someone to upgrade my wards, so I reckon I’m pretty safe at home. Besides, it’s been about three weeks since 3am made me take the mask. If he was going to kill me, he’d have done it by now.”

“Unless he thinks you witnessed him kill Nara-sensei. What if he saw you in the shrine?”

“Stop worrying.” Kawaguchi waved aside Tenzou’s concerns with what Tenzou considered an unhealthy amount of flippancy. “I’ll be fine. Promise. Now, are you ready to go play hide and seek in the ghost town?”

“This conversation isn’t over.”

“That’s the spirit! Ready or not, here we come.”

  


* * *

  


When Kakashi got stuck on an idea, he found it impossible to concentrate on anything else. Since Tenzou’s visit that morning, he’d been consumed with the possibility that Himura had killed Kaede, and so he’d decided to leave the 3am detective work to Tenzou for an afternoon and try and dig up some evidence for his newest theory.

Taking into account Kawaguchi’s suspicions about his involvement with Kaede’s death, he decided it would be in his best interests to stay away from the murder site itself, and without the resources of ANBU to back him up, his only other option was to talk with Himura directly. Kakashi was under no illusions that Himura would break down and confess if he was guilty, but the only thing he could do was to act and hope for a reaction.

The first evidence that Himura wasn’t being completely honest came surprisingly early in Kakashi’s self-imposed mission, when he was trying to track Himura down. He knew the right people to ask for Himura’s address, which turned out to be in the opposite direction of Iruka’s house from the village centre. Last night, Himura had said he was passing by on his way home from a health check at the hospital, but that must have been a lie, because he’d have had to circle back on himself completely to get home.

Kakashi suspected that Himura had followed him and set up their chance encounter so he could casually ask Kakashi about Kaede. He’d wanted to reassure himself that he’d done the right thing by killing her, and since Tenzou would never give out details of the case, Kakashi was his only source of information.

If he was being honest with himself, Kakashi wasn’t sure if he wanted to see Himura punished for the murder. It was complicated, emotionally speaking. He understood, and even sympathised, but at the same time if Himura had taken the law into his own hands and committed murder in the name of justice, Kakashi couldn’t condone that. On a more practical and self-serving note, if Kakashi could uncover the identity of Kaede’s killer, maybe ANBU would stop looking for an excuse to lock him up and throw away the key.

Himura lived in a one bedroom flat not too far from the centre of the village, but in a street set far back enough from the main road that it retained a quiet, residential air. The building looked old but very well maintained, housing only six flats according to the intercom by the door. The sign bearing Himura’s name next to flat 3 looked new. There was no mention of Akane.

“Hello?” Himura’s voice came over the intercom a few seconds after Kakashi rang the bell.

“It’s Kakashi. Do you mind if I come up?”

There was a brief pause. Kakashi knew he wouldn’t be turned away. Not if Himura was hoping he had more information on the murders or Kaede.

“I’ll buzz you in. Come up to the first floor.”

When Kakashi had scaled the short flight of stairs, he found Himura standing in the doorway to number 3, waiting for him. He stood aside to let Kakashi in.

“This is a surprise,” he commented. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No thank you.” Kakashi had a policy not to accept food or drink from possible murderers. “Sorry for turning up out of the blue.”

Himura showed him through to a lounge that was quite a bit bigger than Kakashi’s own living room. The whole flat was neat, but with the comfortable lived-in feel that came from two people sharing a domestic space. There were photographs dotted about the room, and almost all of them were pictures of Himura and Akane smiling side by side. Kakashi wondered if her clothes were still in the drawers, her favourite foods in the cupboards, her shampoo lying unused in the bathroom. He thought of Iruka and repressed a shiver.

He sat on the couch and Himura settled into an armchair.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Himura said. “I didn’t mean to hound you about Nara-sensei. It’s just that ever since you asked me about her the other day, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

“I understand. I’ve been thinking about the 3am killings constantly since Iruka-sensei was attacked,” Kakashi admitted. First he had to make Himura think he was completely on his side. Then he’d build a trap into the conversation and set out the bait. Himura might be presenting a tough front, but Kakashi knew that underneath the surface boiled a sizzling pot of grief and anger, and no one could hold back that much emotion and not make mistakes. Kakashi had learnt that firsthand over the past few days.

“Himura, I’ve been thinking. After last night, I felt bad that I’ve been looking into the 3am case when it’s none of my business but acting like I have more right to know about it than you do.”

There was no hiding the spark of interest in Himura’s eyes.

“I came over today because I think we should talk about it. We’re – well, not in the same boat, not at all, but we’ve both suffered because this bastard has hurt people we care about.”

“I understand why you didn’t want to talk to me. If I were you, I probably would have been cautious as well, but thank you for coming here today. It would make me feel so much better if I knew even slightly what was going on.”

“Well, I won’t pretend I have all the answers, or even most of them. But you wanted to know about Nara, and I can tell you all I know about her.”

Himura leaned forwards, staring at him intently.

“Her name first came up in connection to some chakra repressing seals found at the crime scenes. She’d checked out a restricted book containing the seal twice in the past few months. And then Matsuoka-sensei’s body was identified and connected to the 3am killings. Nara-sensei was taking him to court over plagiarism charges.”

“I’d heard about Matsuoka-sensei’s death, but only through gossip,” Himura said. “I had no idea he was connected to the others.”

“He was probably the first victim,” Kakashi said. “Nara-sensei also had connections to all three of the other victims.”

“So where does 3am fit into the picture?”

Kakashi blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You said she was just an accomplice, but it sounds to me like she had the means and probably the motive to kill. I can see why she went for Matsuoka-sensei, and I’m sure you have some idea about the other victims.”

“I think she was stealing their research. Did Fujimoto-san have a large role in your seal tattoos?”

Himura raised a hand to touch his face. “Yes. She did all of the preliminary research. She didn’t really have a background in seals, which is why she eventually approached Nara-sensei, but she taught herself as much as she could over the six months I was blind. Nara-sensei put the final seals together, but she couldn’t have done it without the resources Akane found.”

That sounded like an impressive story – a novice becoming an expert overnight to save her lover’s sight. It would certainly overshadow any glory Kaede had hoped to gain. “Are your seals particularly impressive? Would they be worth killing for?”

Himura shrugged. “I don’t know anything about seals, so I couldn’t tell you. Nara-sensei certainly seemed very enthusiastic every time we spoke to her about the project, though. And researchers are always competing for funding. The better her portfolio, the bigger share she’d get of the money pot, I guess.”

The more Kakashi heard about Kaede, the more he was convinced that he was right about her being the mastermind behind the murders. It was a much more compelling motive than picking off disrespectful chuunin, especially since Matsuoka didn’t fit that pattern.

“Considering all of the evidence against Nara-sensei, why do you think someone else was the killer?” Himura asked.

Kakashi wouldn’t tell him about the ANBU profile if his life depended on it, but he could give a little more in the hopes of getting something in return. “Iruka-sensei saw enough of his killer to identify him as male.”

“Victim and witness accounts are the least reliable sources of information. Especially considering it happened at night when it was dark and Umino-sensei was probably sleepy and less aware. The shock of an attack like that could also distort his perception or his memories.”

“Himura, you barely know any of the case details and yet you’ve been fixated on Nara-sensei for a while. How can you possibly be so sure she was the killer?”

“I’ve been thinking about it. Nara-sensei was a highly intelligent kunoichi. She had the intellect to plan these murders and the skill set to carry them out. She didn’t choose any victims who outranked her, and even if any of them were stronger than her, she chose the perfect time and method to attack. Everyone is vulnerable when they’re asleep, and since she was a seals expert she must have been good at lock picking. It goes with the territory – both skills require a high level of chakra control.”

If Kakashi hadn’t known about the profile, he might have found this approach convincing. “Iruka-sensei described the killer using a technique to control him, probably genjutsu. Was Nara-sensei proficient at genjutsu?”

“I have no idea. I’d never met her before Akane approached her about the seals. But the Nara clan have that shadow jutsu. She could easily have controlled someone for long enough to disable them.”

Kakashi sat back. The conversation hadn’t gone the way he’d expected, but he was fascinated despite himself. “Then who do you think killed Nara-sensei if not 3am?”

“A woman like that couldn’t have been without enemies.” If that wasn’t dodging the question, Kakashi didn’t know what was.

“Say she really was 3am. Maybe someone found out and killed her.”

“Maybe,” Himura said neutrally.

Kakashi decided to push a little further. “Someone else could have come to the same conclusion you just did. Someone who was involved with one of the victims, maybe, and wanted revenge.”

Himura didn’t react. “Sounds like we’re both pretty suspicious.”

If Kakashi listened closely, he thought he could hear a threat laced into those words.

“Hatake, if you had a chance to get revenge for Umino-sensei, would you take it?”

Kakashi opened his mouth to deny it, and couldn’t. Himura watched him struggle with himself. “Revenge doesn’t have to mean violence,” he eventually managed. “Turning the killer over to ANBU would be revenge enough.”

“What if Umino-sensei had died?”

The image came back to him of Iruka bleeding on the bed, pale, still, bound. The handprints, dark against the bloodstained sheets. He’d thought Iruka was dead and a part of him had shut down.

He realised he’d been silent for too long, and glanced up to see Himura looking at him with something like sympathy.

“Whoever killed Nara-sensei did us both a favour.”

Kakashi couldn’t find the strength to disagree.

  


* * *

  


There was a lot of ground to cover in the hunt for Matsuoka’s kill site, so Tenzou had suggested they start at the shrine and work their way out in opposite directions. Tenzou would move down the street heading towards the old hospital and Kawaguchi would take the old shops and houses going the other way.

“Here.” Kawaguchi handed Tenzou a calling seal. It was simpler in design than the seals they’d found in the shrine, and Tenzou recognised it as the sort ANBU kept in the equipment room. “Give me a call if you find something and we’ll meet in front of the shrine.”

“Sure. See you in a bit.”

It became clear very quickly that the entire street was uninhabited. Tenzou could see why. The buildings were very old, the wooden beams rotting and the brickwork dirty and worn. Most were shops on the ground floor with small flats above. There were broken windows, boarded up doors, graffiti left by urban explorers, and a veritable army of spiders. In an abandoned bookshop, Tenzou found a colony of bats roosting in the empty bookcases.

An hour and a half later he found himself at the entrance to the old hospital. It was smaller than the maze-like complex of the new hospital, but still large enough to be daunting. Tenzou sighed, resigning himself to the task at hand. So far he’d found nothing resembling a kill site. While he wasn’t sure exactly what he’d find if he did stumble across it, he was on the lookout for the obvious: blood or signs of a struggle.

When the hospital had been moved fifty years ago, not everything had made it to the new site. All of the medical equipment had gone, but there were still beds in the wards, their sheets stripped, some of the mattresses quietly mouldering, some spirited away, leaving only the metal bedframes like dusty skeletons. The windows were covered with a thick layer of grime, and the light that filtered in was barely enough to see by. Tenzou switched on his torch, throwing the corners of the rooms into deeper shadow. Cockroaches scuttled away from the light or crunched underfoot.

Tenzou had lost track of which department he was in when he found the operating room. The door swung shut behind him, shutting out the faint remnants of natural light and leaving him suspended in total darkness apart from the beam of torchlight, which Tenzou moved slowly across the room. He passed through a prep room first, with two large cracked sinks built into the wall, and then went through another door into the operating room itself. The operating table was still there, and above it hung adjustable lights, which could be moved to shine at different angles. One of the walls was lined with glass-fronted cupboards, which looked empty, and there was a stand which must once have held the surgeon’s tools. The rest of the room was bare, and it took Tenzou a moment to realise what was wrong with it.

There was no dust. Or, rather, there was, but such a light layer that it wasn’t immediately noticeable, especially when compared to the rest of the building. Tenzou reached into his pocket and activated the calling seal, then started to look over the room again, but in more detail. The cupboards were empty, and even though one of the glass fronts had broken, there were no shards of broken glass in the cupboard or on the floor. In fact, the floor was completely free of rubbish or debris. Tenzou went back into the prep room, which wasn’t clean, but the dust on the floor had been disturbed. There were piles of dust and broken glass in the sinks, which Tenzou was willing to bet was the result of cleaning up the operating room. He sifted carefully through the mess, but couldn’t find anything more damning than dirt.

He was still poking around the room when the calling seal burned hot against his leg. Right, he’d agreed to meet Kawaguchi at the shrine. He’d been so distracted he’d forgotten that Kawaguchi wouldn’t know where to find him.

Tenzou went back out into the corridor. He had no idea where in the hospital he was, which would be a problem when he tried to find his way back. Wiping the dust off the sign beside the door, he discovered he was at Theatre 2, which wasn’t especially helpful. Glancing around, Tenzou couldn’t see any nearby signs, so he went over to the nearest window and wrapped one of the bandages from his leg around his hand. He used the hilt of a kunai to smash the glass and knock out the pieces at the edges of the frame that had survived the initial impact. Leaving this way would be easier than getting lost in the maze of corridors, and he’d have a better chance of finding the window again than trying to memorise the route back to the operating theatre.

He’d hopped up onto the window ledge and was about to crawl out onto the wall when he heard quiet footsteps behind him in the corridor. Tenzou slipped back inside and turned to see a figure making its way towards him in the dingy light. He raised his torch, and the light glinted off ANBU armour and a white mask.

Kawaguchi raised a hand to shield his eyes, his own torch pointing at the ground. “You were supposed to meet me at the _shrine_.”

Tenzou lowered the torch. “Sorry, I got distracted. How did you find me?”

“If you hadn’t made it to the hospital by now, I’d be disappointed in your abilities. And once I was inside, I just had to follow the trail.” He pointed at the floor, where there was a line of footprints in the dust. Tenzou wondered why he hadn’t found any other footprints, from whoever had cleaned the operating room. Had the cleaner covered their tracks or had they been naturally erased by time?

“I found something, but I don’t know if it’s what we’re looking for,” he said.

He led Kawaguchi through to the operating room and then stood back and let Kawaguchi come to his own conclusion. Kawaguchi stepped slowly across the room, shining his torch over the floor and cupboards much like Tenzou had done.

“Someone’s cleaned it out,” he said. “Maybe recently, but it’s hard to tell. You won’t get much dust building naturally in a closed room. Could have been months since someone was in here.”

“It might be nothing,” Tenzou agreed, “or it could have been cleaned three weeks ago to remove the blood and the evidence.”

Kawaguchi hummed in agreement. “It’s a good spot for a murder, especially since Matsuoka was the first. They might not have thought of using the chakra repression seals or soundproofing seals at that point, in which case this is a really good location. The hospital buildings are far back enough from the parts of the neighbourhood where people are still living, and there’s an obvious advantage to using a room with no windows and only one door. Plus, there’s a nice dramatic irony in Nara choosing to murder her medical rival in a hospital.”

“You couldn’t pick anywhere much further from the Forest of Death, though. Why pick a dumping ground on the other side of town?”

“There are plenty of ways to transport a body without being seen. Maybe they couldn’t think of anywhere better? But you’re right, they’d have to take the body right across the village. It’s riskier than hiding it somewhere around here. Hell, they could have left it in this room and we’d probably never have found it.”

Tenzou thought of the debris in the prep room sinks. “The only major problem I’m having is that someone cleaned up in here and put all the dust and rubbish in the other room. If they were cleaning up a blood-splattered murder site, why isn’t there any blood in there? And why go to the trouble of cleaning up possible evidence and then leaving it at the scene of the crime?”

“You’re right, that doesn’t make much sense. But what other reason could anyone possibly have to clean out this room?”

“A prank? Kids probably dare each other to come in here, although this is a little further inside than most kids would brave. Or it could have been used as a secret place to meet.”

Kawaguchi shone his light on the operating table. “What, like a couple having a secret affair, coming to bone each other in the creepy abandoned hospital? No thank you. That would give new meaning to playing doctor.”

“Sicker things have happened.”

“Maybe in _your_ sex life. You’re right, though – we have nothing to go on here. There’s literally no evidence that anyone ever died here. Have you checked the rest of the buildings?”

“I didn’t even make it through the whole of this one. But isn’t it getting a bit late? Maybe we can save the rest of the wild goose chasing for another day.”

Kawaguchi checked his watch. “You just don’t want to be here after sundown in case the ghosts get you.”

“You’ve seen right through me. Carry on if you want, but I’m going back to the offices.”

He went back out to the corridor, and after a moment Kawaguchi hurried after him.

“Hey, don’t leave me alone in here! I wasn’t joking about the ghosts.”

  


* * *

  


It wasn’t the best time to be visiting the Nara compound, Kakashi knew, less than forty-eight hours after Kaede had been killed, but he needed to check up on something before he spoke with Tenzou. After leaving Himura’s house, he was more convinced than ever that Himura had killed Kaede, but he was leaving that alone for now. The things Himura had said had got to him in ways he hadn’t anticipated, so he’d returned to the trail that hopefully led to 3am’s identity.

He didn’t believe Himura’s theory that Kaede was the killer, but then Himura didn’t know about the ANBU connection so Kakashi couldn’t blame him for not seeing the overall picture. But one of the things Himura had said had stuck in Kakashi’s mind. Kaede’s shadow jutsu could definitely be used to incapacitate the victims, and Kakashi was furtively hoping that she hadn’t been tag teaming with 3am to commit the murders. If they’d mistaken the Nara jutsu for genjutsu then the profile ANBU were using was useless.

Therefore, Kakashi wanted to test it. He wanted to find out if it was possible to control someone with the shadow jutsu while they slept, and hopefully disprove Himura’s theory.

He was shown through to the dojo behind the main building, where Shikaku was going through katas. Kakashi waited patiently for him to finish.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said when Shikaku had dropped his final stance.

“It’s fine. I can take a break. How can I help you, Kakashi?”

Kakashi hesitated. He got on with Shikaku and didn’t want to lie to him. “This is kind of delicate, and I might be out of line, but I’m here about Kaede-sensei.”

Shikaku sighed and pushed a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “When the ANBU came to inform me of her death, they told me Kaede was a person of interest in the 3am murders. I take it that’s related to why you’re here?”

Kakashi nodded. “I’m sorry to bring it up so soon after she died.”

Shikaku waved his apology away. “I’d already suspected it, ever since an ANBU came around asking questions about her, but I still find it difficult to believe. What’s your interest in the case?”

“Iruka-sensei is a close friend of mine. I’ve been investigating privately, though I intend to report anything I find to ANBU.”

“I see. Iruka-sensei is a good man, I’m glad he survived. Shikamaru went to visit him in the hospital a couple of days ago; he said your genin team had dropped out of the chuunin exams because of it.”

“How did Team Ten do in the first exam this morning?”

“They passed. The second exam should have started by now, so they’ll all be out in the forest.” Shikaku slipped a pair of sandals back on. “Why don’t we go and sit in the house to talk?”

“Actually, I was hoping you’d consent to take part in a small experiment. I want to know how effective your clan’s shadow jutsu would be on a sleeping target.”

Shikaku gave him a long look. Kakashi knew that the implications of his statement weren’t lost on him.

“All right,” Shikaku said. “Though I can tell you now that it would work just fine. Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?”

“I want to know how much awareness the affected person feels, and how much they can be moved before they wake up.”

“Do you want me to test it on you?”

“Sure. I don’t have a problem being a guinea pig.”

Shikaku beckoned him to follow. “Then let’s go somewhere a little more comfortable and you can take a nap.”

He led Kakashi back into the main building and to a bedroom that Kakashi assumed belonged to Shikaku and his wife. There was a chair by the window, which Shikaku sat in, motioning Kakashi towards the bed.

“Will you be able to fall asleep easily?”

“Shouldn’t be too hard. I haven’t been sleeping well lately, and I’ve always been good at napping.” Kakashi perched on the edge of the bed. He felt a bit strange about falling asleep on someone else’s bed while they watched, and hoped it wouldn’t make him too tense.

“So what exactly do you want me to do?”

Kakashi tried to think of a sensitive way to phrase his request and then gave up and decided it was best to be direct rather than pussyfoot around and risk giving unclear instructions. “See if you can move me into the position the victims were found in. Like this.” He lay down and stretched a hand up to the bed post. “On the back, legs together, hand where the wrist can be secured. Your bed is like Iruka’s – too big to restrain both hands, so just one is fine.” He sat up again, and looked at Shikaku, who simply nodded. “For the record, I’m here because I’m trying to disprove the theory that this is how the victims were controlled.”

“You don’t need to justify yourself,” Shikaku said. “I wasn’t told why Kaede is implicated, but I trust that ANBU wouldn’t have mentioned it to me if there wasn’t good reason to suspect her. I only hope they release the body for burial before they close the case. I’d like to have at least some hope that she’ll be proven innocent when I’m attending her funeral.”

There was no chance of that, Kakashi knew, but if Shikaku preferred not to know the truth right now, who was Kakashi to tell him that Kaede’s guilt had already been proven beyond any doubt?

“Thank you for agreeing to this,” he said instead. “I know it’s completely inappropriate of me, but to be honest I’m running out of options.”

“I don’t mind,” Shikaku said. “She’s either guilty or she isn’t, and nothing you do is going to change that. I’d prefer an upsetting truth to a comfortable lie.” He looked tired, and Kakashi wondered if he’d been close to Kaede. He wasn’t sure exactly how they were related. “Do you think it’ll take you long to fall asleep?”

“No idea,” Kakashi said honestly. “I hope not.”

He lay down on the bed, facing away from Shikaku in an attempt to fool himself into believing he was alone. The bed was soft, and after a couple of minutes Kakashi felt himself relaxing into it. Shikaku didn’t move or make a sound behind him. It wasn’t as difficult as he’d thought it would be to let his mind switch off. He was used to sleeping in strange places, often much more uncomfortable when he had to sleep rough on missions, and compared to that, it was easy to simply close his eye and surrender to the tug of sleep...

Kakashi woke up to find himself on his back with his legs together and one hand against the bed post, and his heart sank.

“It worked,” he said.

“Barely,” Shikaku commented. He was standing at the end of the bed, an arm in the air, which he now dropped as he released Kakashi from the jutsu. “You woke up as soon as your wrist touched the bed.”

Kakashi sat up. “I’m a light sleeper. But all of the victims were chuunin who worked full time in the village. They might have been able to sleep through more.”

“It wouldn’t matter if they woke up,” Shikaku pointed out. “Once someone’s trapped by the jutsu, they can’t escape.”

Kakashi slid his legs off the edge of the bed and stood up. “But Iruka-sensei did sleep through it. And he said he felt aware that something was happening even before he woke up.” He frowned, thinking back to how he’d felt before he woke. “I think on some level I was aware that something was happening to me, but I’m not sure it was the same as what Iruka-sensei described.”

“The level of awareness would probably differ depending on the stage of the sleep cycle,” Shikaku pointed out. “But to me it sounds more like you’re describing a genjutsu.”

Having a third person come to the same conclusion independently made Kakashi feel better. They hadn’t proved anything with the experiment. The profile held up.

“Was Kaede-sensei any good with genjutsu?”

“I’ve never seen her use genjutsu, and she’s not the type to hide a talent.” He paused. “That is, she wasn’t the type.”

For what felt like the hundredth time, Kakashi felt a rush of gratitude that he didn’t have to learn a new tense for talking about Iruka.

“Thanks again for humouring me with this,” he said. “I’m sorry for interrupting your afternoon.”

“I’m happy to be of any help in this, to you or ANBU,” Shikaku said. “For everyone’s sake, I hope someone catches the killer soon. I think we’ll all be able to sleep a little easier knowing he’s behind bars where he belongs.”

Kakashi nodded. Amen to that.

  


* * *

  


Tenzou was walking across the square towards the Tower with Kawaguchi when he caught sight of Kakashi moving towards them with intent.

“You go on,” he said, waving Kawaguchi towards the Tower.

Kawaguchi didn’t move, staring at Kakashi. “Should you really be spending so much time with him at the moment?”

“You haven’t earnt the right to dictate my social life,” Tenzou said sharply.

Kawaguchi gave him a hard look. “As long as it’s just your social life. Kakashi doesn’t have ANBU clearance anymore – remember that.”

He turned and carried on towards the Tower just as Kakashi came level with Tenzou.

“What’s his problem?” Kakashi asked. “Does he still think I murdered Nara despite my ANBU sanctioned alibi?”

“He doesn’t think you killed anyone,” Tenzou corrected. “But you’re _this close_ to being a person of interest in this case and you know it, so don’t push your luck.”

“I know, I know. Listen, can we talk for a bit?”

Tenzou wished Kakashi could see his exasperated expression. “Don’t tell me you’ve already been causing more trouble.”

“I haven’t caused any trouble! I’ve been doing some nice legal detective work and now I’m keeping you in the loop like you asked me to.”

He was practically pouting. Tenzou resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Forgive me if I want to hear you out before I respond to that analysis of your day. Let’s go and talk in the Tower. We can find an empty meeting room.”

“Is that OK?” Kakashi looked hesitant. “Kawaguchi wasn’t wrong, you know. It might be best if you’re not seen with me too much while I’m ANBU enemy number one.”

“You’re no such thing,” Tenzou said firmly. “Besides, it would be much more suspicious if we were seen sneaking off somewhere to talk in private.”

“Good point. Tower it is.”

It was more difficult than usual to find a free room, owing, no doubt, to the chuunin exams, but the smallest room at the end of the corridor was empty and as they entered Kakashi slid the sign outside the door from ‘available’ to ‘occupied’.

“I spoke with Himura earlier,” he said as soon as the door had closed behind them. “I still think he killed Nara. He’s completely obsessed with her – he has this whole theory that she’s 3am. He told me all about it.”

“Evidence?”

“No, but that’s not really what I’m here about. Most of what he was saying about Nara was groundless since he doesn’t know about the profile, but he made a comment that got me thinking. He was talking about her clan’s shadow jutsu and how she might have used it to control the victims. And that got me worrying about the profile, so I went to the Nara compound and Shikaku tried it on me.”

“Tried what on you? The jutsu?”

“I took a nap and we tested it. He got me into position before I woke up. It didn’t feel quite the way Iruka-sensei described, but it worried me a little.”

Tenzou was unimpressed. He’d already considered this angle and dismissed it for a simple reason that Kakashi had completely overlooked.

“Maybe that would work on the victims he was aiming to kill, but you’re forgetting that there was another case of genjutsu. He made an ANBU walk into the offices and steal a mask and uniform. There’s no way Nara-sensei could have accomplished that with her jutsu – not without the victim waking up and alerting someone to what was happening. And that’s without considering that she’d need to be able to use it at a distance and know the layout of the ANBU offices.”

Kakashi let out a long breath and let his head fall back. “Of course. How could I forget about that? I’ve been so caught up with the murders that it totally slipped my mind.” He looked up again. “There’s no way the thief is 3am, right? You cleared him?”

Of course, Kakashi had no idea he was talking about Kawaguchi. “Doesn’t fit the profile and has an alibi for the night Eri-san was killed.”

“Right, cool. So I’ve been freaking out over nothing. That’s good to know.”

Tenzou watched him closely. “Kakashi, are you all right? It’s not like you to miss such a huge detail.”

“Someone I care about nearly died, I’ve been banned from seeing him, interrogated like a suspect and locked up in a cell...considering all that, I don’t think I’m faring too badly. I might have missed a few hours of sleep here and there, but I’m not so out of it I’ll get you in trouble if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about. I’m worried about you.”

Kakashi looked at him wryly. “Well, what about you, Tenzou? I don’t remember the last time I saw you when you weren’t working. How long have you been pulling double shifts for?”

Come to think of it, Tenzou couldn’t remember the last time he’d done anything other than work the case and sleep. “At least I’m being paid to work myself into the ground.”

Kakashi laughed. “Just don’t overdo it or we’ll both end up too exhausted to catch this guy.”

“Don’t jinx us,” Tenzou said seriously, and Kakashi laughed again. Tenzou watched him for a moment. “All right, get it over with. Ask.”

“What?”

“You never drop by to give me information without asking for something in return. What do you want to know this time?”

Kakashi perched on the edge of the meeting table. “Actually, I was going to respect your boundaries and not ask you anything about the case.” Tenzou raised a disbelieving eyebrow, unseen. “But since you’re offering, I do feel like I’m missing some details about Nara’s death. You told me to bring you evidence on Himura if I wanted you to believe that he did it, but I’m missing way too many facts. So I have two options: I can go hang about in the Mission Room and try and judge which rumours are closest to the truth, or I can ask you really nicely and maybe you’ll be kind enough to talk me through the night she was killed.”

Tenzou considered saying no. He really did. But Kakashi had a point. “There’s not much more to tell.”

“Just walk me through it. Who found her?”

“Kawaguchi. We were all out searching for her after she went missing and he happened to be close enough to feel her chakra flare. He got there so quickly she was still alive when he found her.”

Kakashi frowned. “Was the carotid severed?” Tenzou nodded. “She’d have died in five minutes if she was lucky, yet that damn snail didn’t manage to see who did it?”

“He must have taken off straight after killing her. He probably heard Kawaguchi coming, otherwise he would have stuck around to clean up. There was too much evidence in the shrine.”

“Unless Himura killed her,” Kakashi countered. “He wouldn’t have known or cared about evidence relating to 3am because as far as he was concerned, he’d just murdered 3am. But leaving that aside, why didn’t Kawaguchi go after him as soon as Nara had died?”

Tenzou stared at him. “He couldn’t have left her body there! He was alone until I showed up a couple of minutes later.”

“Then why didn’t you go after the killer?”

“He told me to, but I couldn’t leave him alone. He was – not all right. When Nara-sensei left T&I, he didn’t put a watch on her, so I think he feels responsible for her death.”

“Well, he is responsible. That was a huge oversight. Isn’t Kawaguchi meant to be part of the genius club? Why’s he so off his game lately?”

Tenzou restrained himself from making a comment about Kakashi’s game.

“You’re still annoyed at him for questioning you.”

“This isn’t about that. Keeping an eye on a potential suspect is common sense. Wasn’t it obvious that she might lead you straight to 3am?” Kakashi threw up his hands in frustration. “So Kawaguchi arrives on the scene in the first couple of minutes, with you maybe another two or three minutes behind. Then no one gives chase. Tell me you at least checked the surrounding area. The timeline is so short that the killer might not even have left. He could have been hiding out at the scene somewhere.”

“I’m not completely incompetent,” Tenzou snapped. “Of course I checked the scene. There was no one else there.”

Kakashi ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get annoyed. Of course you know how to do your job. I know that. It’s just that you were so damn close.”

Kakashi didn’t need to tell him that. The thought that they could have ended this if they’d turned up five minutes earlier had haunted Tenzou since that night. “According to your theory, we wouldn’t have caught 3am anyway. We’d have caught Himura.”

“At least that would have been one murderer off the streets. And if you’d saved Nara –”

“Don’t,” Tenzou interrupted. “I’ve had enough what ifs to last me a lifetime.”

“I bet you have.” Kakashi stretched and stood up off the table. “I better let you get back to work before Kawaguchi starts to think I’ve murdered you too.”

Tenzou snorted. “Are you ever going to get over that? I thought you liked Kawaguchi.”

“I did until he accused me of murder!”

“You’re such a child.” They left the room and Tenzou ignored the look a passing ANBU gave them. “I think you’ve done enough for today. Go straight home and don’t make trouble.”

Kakashi shot him an amused glance. “Yes, Mother. Aren’t you going to remind me to eat my vegetables too?”

Tenzou walked him to the front entrance and they parted at the door.

“I’ll catch you tomorrow,” Kakashi said as he left. “Don’t forget to eat and sleep.”

Tenzou smiled behind the mask. “Yes, Mother.”

  


* * *

  


After Kakashi had gone, Tenzou spent the rest of the afternoon shut away in a private office going through his notes and files in minute detail, trying to fit the pieces together in a way that would give him another suspect. Time and again he thought he’d found something only for a single detail to throw off the pattern. All of the victims could have been moved with Kaede’s justu, except for Kawaguchi. The bodies had all been left at the kill sites, except for Matsuoka. The victims had all been impaled, except for Kaede.

It was maddening. Tenzou was sure there was one more piece of the puzzle – one thing that would link everything else together. What he really needed was to understand how the killer was connected to Kaede. Once he had that, he could figure out 3am’s motive and then he’d have the bastard.

In a fit of hope he’d shown Kawaguchi the list of ANBU who fit the profile and asked him whether any of them held any sort of grudge against him. The way 3am had sent Kawaguchi into the equipment room in full view of the camera couldn’t be anything but a badly planned frame job. Kawaguchi had ummed and ahhed and shrugged a little helplessly.

“I get on well with most people,” he’d said. “I tell Haruki to go die in a fire on a regular basis, but apart from him I don’t remember ever fighting with anyone on the list. Not the kind of fight that isn’t solved by buying them a drink and kissing some ass, anyway.”

That had been almost two hours ago, and Tenzou’s back was starting to hurt from hunching over the papers spread out over the desk. Maybe he’d go take a walk around the offices, stretch his legs, and see what Kawaguchi had been up to since their jaunt around the ghost town. It might help if they talked things out a little. Surely one of them was capable of some bright idea that would break the case open.

Tenzou opened the door and stepped back out into the open plan office in time to hear the end of a rant currently being directed at Kawaguchi by an angry-looking woman.

“– can’t believe you’re trying to blame me! I did you a favour and swapped shifts at the last minute and you can’t even be bothered to fill out the paperwork.”

Kawaguchi was sitting in his chair, leaning back from the figure towering over him, his hands held up as if to ward her off. “I’m sorry, OK? I thought you’d said you were going to do it.”

An accusing finger was thrust in Kawaguchi’s face. “Don’t try and pull that shit on me, you know damn well you promised to do it. I sorted it out over at the prison and you were supposed to fill out the form here. You had a whole week to get it done before the end of the month. It’s all right for you – you got paid for a shift you didn’t work! I’m the one who’s lost out. You better speak to Tadaomi _today_ and get this sorted.”

“It’s just one shift,” Kawaguchi said placatingly. “I could just pay you the money back, save us both the hassle of filling out God knows how many forms and getting a slap on the wrist for not doing it earlier. I can get you the money tomorrow if you want.”

The woman considered this. “Yeah, OK. But I know exactly how much you owe me. And you better mean it when you say tomorrow or so help me, Kawaguchi...” She trailed off threateningly and Kawaguchi leaned back another inch.

Tenzou only dared approach when the irate ANBU had stormed out of the office. “What on earth was that about?”

Kawaguchi winced. “I swapped a prison shift with her a couple of weeks ago and forgot to change it on the system, so I got paid for it instead of her. It’s not really _that_ big a deal; she was totally overreacting. Who even checks their pay every month? I could have been underpaid since I’d started here and I’d be none the wiser.”

“I’m willing to believe it was your fault. You’re notorious for dodging paperwork, you know.”

Kawaguchi shot him an injured look. “So harsh. And I was just about to come and give you the wonderful news.”

That sounded much more interesting than Kawaguchi’s paperwork woes. “What news?”

Kawaguchi gestured towards his computer. “I’ve found the connection.”

“Which connection?”

Kawaguchi smirked. “The one between Nara and Haruki.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's nothing sexier than a creepy abandoned hospital. It's where I have all my sordid affairs.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is called 'Kakashi Reads Some Files'.

Tenzou pulled a chair over and sat next to Kawaguchi, staring at the computer screen. It showed a list of patients who Kaede had treated in the last three months, and Kawaguchi pointed to a name, dated about six weeks ago. Tenzou stared at it blankly.

“Who is Kagame Akiko, and how does she link Nara-sensei and Haruki-san?”

“Akiko-chan is my sister’s kid.”

Tenzou remembered the three teenage girls who’d been training with Haruki. “Haruki-san’s her jounin-sensei.”

Kawaguchi grinned at him. “Bingo. I remember what happened, actually. She damaged the chakra pathways in her hand; she has way more chakra than average and less than brilliant control, so stuff like this sometimes happens. Haruki and I had a big fight about it – it’s because he puts so much pressure on her that she does stupid things to try and impress him.”

“Why didn’t you mention this sooner?” Tenzou asked. “I can’t believe you knew what the connection was all along and didn’t remember!”

Kawaguchi shook his head. “I never met the medic who treated Akiko-chan, so I didn’t know it was Nara. But I’m willing to bet she had words with Haruki about not pushing his students too far. And maybe about other things too. Things that eventually led to a plan to murder four chuunin.”

Tenzou frowned. “Hard to see how that came up in conversation.”

“Stranger things have happened. I thought you’d be pleased. This is what we’ve been searching for.”

“I am pleased,” Tenzou said, and wondered why he was having to lie. He’d been so convinced it was Haruki for so long, and then Kakashi had told him that might not be true and somewhere along the line Tenzou had started believing him. He tried to shake himself out of it. “Have you requested a warrant?”

“Of course. We should have it by tomorrow morning, then we can ransack the Hyuuga compound.”

Tenzou nodded. It wouldn’t be a bad thing to search the compound. If they found nothing, he could completely dismiss Haruki and start focusing on which questions he had to ask to find the real killer. And speaking of questions, he had one that he’d avoided asking Kawaguchi earlier, but he couldn’t get it out of his mind.

“Why did you request the Forest body case?” Tenzou asked.

Kawaguchi stared at him, thrown by the abrupt change of subject. “Where’d that come from? Are you still mad at me for the whole Akane-chan thing?”

“I’m not mad at you. Why did you request it?”

Kawaguchi looked away sheepishly. “Mostly to avoid admin shifts.”

“Mostly?”

“I like working cases like this. Not necessarily homicides, but something that takes a bit more brain power than guard duty or patrol. I need something to keep me occupied, you know? A challenge, something to think about.”

“The chance to outsmart a bad guy?”

“Sure, why not? I’m better at outsmarting than ass-kicking anyway. That can be your job.”

Tenzou smiled. “I didn’t know you could make ANBU without being able to kick ass.”

“I didn’t say I couldn’t,” Kawaguchi corrected. “But it’s not my speciality. Haruki always wins our taijutsu matches.”

“You still spar together?”

“Yeah, when he feels like beating the shit out of me.” Kawaguchi pulled a face. “Bastard wasn’t an ANBU captain for nothing.”

“Is that why you hate him so much?” Tenzou asked. “Because you’re smarter than him but he can still beat you?”

Kawaguchi stared at him like he was crazy. “What kind of ego trip do you think I’m on? I hate him for the same reason you do – because he’s a prick!”

Tenzou raised his hands consolingly. “OK, sorry. It’s just that you’re usually so easygoing and it’s weird that he riles you up so much.”

“I could say the same about you,” Kawaguchi shot back. “Besides, he might be able to kick both our asses in a fight, but we’ve beaten him where it counts.” He gestured at the computer screen and leaned back in his chair.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. We can’t arrest him yet.”

“We will,” Kawaguchi said with conviction. “If he did it, we’ll find the evidence. It fits, Tenzou. Everything fits. _Perfectly_.”

Too perfectly, Tenzou thought.

  


* * *

  


Iruka woke up with a knife in his hand and for a moment wondered what on Earth was going on. He pushed the duvet away and sat up, gritting his teeth against the pain; moving from sitting to lying or vice versa was the most difficult movement to make with a stomach wound.

Sunlight curled around the edges of the curtains; it was morning. Iruka had hoped his second night at home would be better than the first, but he wasn’t sure he’d slept much more, and the fear certainly hadn’t been more manageable. He was fine in his house during the day, and even up until the point where he had to turn out the lamp, and then the dread settled over him. The first night, it had taken him half an hour to reach over and switch out the light, and last night he’d tried to avoid working himself into a state by turning it off immediately, but it hadn’t helped. As soon as the room became dark, the dread became a sickly sort of horror and left him breathing hard and sweating. He couldn’t remember how long he’d spent fighting it before he’d managed to sleep, but at least last night he’d been prepared with a weapon to hand. The first night he’d realised he had no seals within arm’s reach and had panicked almost to the point of being physically sick.

It was pathetic. It would have been more sensible to ask Naruto to stay in the room with him or to sleep on the couch, but in the end Iruka couldn’t face either of those options. It would have been cruel to let Naruto see him like that – how could Naruto feel safe in his house if Iruka clearly didn’t? And Naruto had experienced his own trauma in Iruka’s bedroom; it would be unfair to ask him to face that if he wasn’t comfortable with it yet. The couch was a problem for a similar reason – if Naruto went to the bathroom in the night or woke up before him, he’d find Iruka there and know why without having to ask. The couch was also closer to the front door, and too out in the open. Iruka knew without trying that he wouldn’t feel safe there.

So he’d stayed in the bed but had stuffed his pillowcase and bedside table with two different types of barrier seal and the tourniquet seal, and had clutched a kunai until his palm had hurt where the handle had dug into his skin. It wasn’t enough and he couldn’t understand why.

When Iruka had got dressed and repressed his self-loathing enough to face the day, he found Naruto eating breakfast in the lounge, still in his pyjamas.

“How did you sleep?” Naruto asked around a mouthful of cereal. 

Iruka put on a smile and sat next to him on the couch. “Very well. It’s much more comfortable here than the hospital was.”

“So the new bed is OK?”

“It’s perfect.”

Naruto relaxed. “That’s good. I was worried you might have bad dreams or something. You can always come and sleep with me in my bed if you do, you know.”

Iruka felt so fond his heart ached. “We wouldn’t both fit in your bed. It’s made for one person.”

“We could. We could top and tail. Or I could sleep on the floor. I wouldn’t mind. I always feel better if I sleep in your bed when I’ve had a nightmare.”

Iruka reached out and ruffled his hair. “Thank you, but you don’t need to worry about me. I’m a grown-up, I’m too old to be scared by bad dreams.”

Naruto looked at him seriously. “That’s rubbish. I’m _twelve_ and that’s practically thirteen and _that’s_ practically a grown-up, so if I’m not too old to have bad dreams, neither are you.”

Iruka reached out and pulled him close, not caring when Naruto’s bowl tipped and spilt milk onto his leg. “I love you,” he whispered into Naruto’s hair. “I hope you never get too old to play house with me.”

Naruto stiffened because they’d never really talked about their relationship before. “I love you too,” he said in a single breath, and then looked up. “And we’re not playing.” He ducked his head down. “We’re family, right? And family lasts forever.”

“That’s right,” Iruka said softly. “Forever. That’s what family means.”

  


* * *

  


The warrant came through at half past ten.

“ _Finally_ ,” Kawaguchi said, grabbing it from the messenger who’d brought it over. Tenzou agreed wholeheartedly with the sentiment. They’d been sitting in the offices all morning waiting for it, and Tenzou had barely been able to concentrate on anything else.

“Hawk and Bear are already at the compound, right?” Tenzou asked for about the tenth time.

“They better be,” Kawaguchi said, jamming his mask over his face. “Now come on, I’m not wasting another second.”

When they got there, they found Hawk and Bear standing at the front entrance having an argument with Haruki, another Hyuuga hovering nervously in the background. Earlier that morning they’d sent Hawk and Bear into position in preparation for when the warrant was issued so they’d be able to immediately commence a search of the compound and to prevent Haruki from leaving. It wasn’t necessary for Haruki to be present when they turned his home upside down, but the last thing they wanted was for Haruki to give them the slip if they finally found proof that he was guilty.

“You can’t put people under fucking house arrest for no damn reason,” Haruki was shouting. He noticed Tenzou approaching. “ _You_. I should have known.” His gaze slipped past Tenzou to Kawaguchi and his expression changed. “What the fuck are you doing here? You can’t be in on this too.”

Hiashi stormed out of the gate and his furious gaze settled on Tenzou. “What’s happening out here?”

Kawaguchi thrust the warrant at him. “We have reason to suspect a member of your clan was involved in a string of four homicides. We’re going to search the compound for evidence. The whole compound,” he added. Hiashi snatched the warrant from his hand and started scanning it.

“Haruki-san, please don’t leave the property until we’ve finished our search,” Tenzou said. “If you attempt to leave, you will be restrained by force.”

“You have no right to do that,” Haruki snarled.

“But we will,” Tenzou said.

Hiashi had finished reading the warrant. “Fine. You may search my home to your heart’s content, but when you find nothing I will be submitting a formal complaint. You may be within your rights to obtain a warrant, but there is nothing legal about forcing Haruki to be present.”

“So sorry about that,” Kawaguchi said. “But we don’t get paid any extra to chase him across the village, so we’d rather he stay put.”

Haruki gave him that look again. Tenzou couldn’t quite figure it out. “You don’t believe I would murder people.” He sounded so sure.

Kawaguchi didn’t look at him. “I’ve seen you murder people. Lots of people. Captain.”

Tenzou frowned. He was sure Hiashi already knew of Haruki’s ex-ANBU status, but Kawaguchi shouldn’t risk outing him to any non-ANBU. Kawaguchi brushed past Hiashi into the compound. Tenzou followed, taking the warrant back from Hiashi and leaving Hawk and Bear to ensure Haruki didn’t leave.

“Wait,” he said, catching Kawaguchi by the arm. “We need to start with Haruki-san’s room. We should ask –”

“I know where it is,” Kawaguchi interrupted him. “I’ve known Haruki since I was twelve. I know this place better than my own house.”

Tenzou looked at him. “You made ANBU when you were twelve?”

Kawaguchi shook his head. “No, not until years later, but it’s ANBU who headhunt for undercover agents, and I was recruited to work as a spy during and after the war. Haruki’s the one who noticed me and trained me. He was working for the espionage division at the time, and later on he was my handler too before we both left espionage and he became my cell leader. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to get away from him.”

“I didn’t know you were a spy.”

“It wasn’t my choice. I spent my whole childhood trying to hide how good I was so I wouldn’t get sent out into the field, but Haruki didn’t give two shits about what I wanted.” His tone was bitter. “You wanted to know why I hate him – that’s why.”

They reached the right building and Tenzou knocked on the door. It was answered by a woman, younger than Haruki, who looked puzzled to see them. Tenzou held up the warrant.

“We’re here to search Haruki-san’s room and possibly the whole building. Could you please inform anyone else who’s home?”

“Why, what’s happening?” the woman asked.

“We’re conducting an investigation,” Kawaguchi said, stepping past her without waiting to be invited in. “That’s all you need to know.”

“Sorry to disturb you,” Tenzou added as he followed Kawaguchi into the hallway.

They didn’t meet anyone else on the way, which Tenzou was grateful for. Kawaguchi opened the sliding door to a room at the back of the house and Tenzou closed it behind them.

Tenzou had expected the room to be sparse and functional, and was surprised by the number of framed photographs crammed onto the chest of drawers. None of them had Haruki in them, and Tenzou imagined he’d been the person behind the camera. There were family snapshots, pictures of three different genin teams, and men and women Tenzou took to be friends or lovers, as amazing as it seemed that Haruki would have either. One particular photo caught his eye and he picked it up.

“He has a picture of you.”

Kawaguchi glanced up from where he was searching through the closet. “That’s our old ANBU team,” he said. “He fancies himself an amateur photographer. Always clicking away with that damn thing.”

Tenzou put the picture down and started going through the drawers. Now wasn’t the time to get distracted.

Forty minutes later, they’d gone through every inch of the room. They’d looked in every visible place and then checked for loose floorboards or holes in the wall. There was nothing there.

Tenzou stood up from where he was kneeling in the closet. “Time to move on.”

Kawaguchi was standing in the middle of the room, not moving a muscle. “We’re not done. We’ve only checked the obvious places. Haruki’s smarter than that. We need to check the places we wouldn’t normally think of.”

Tenzou put a hand on the door. “You’re better suited to that than me. I’ll keep going. Call me if you find anything.”

Tenzou checked the hallway on his way to the next room, and then entered a large, shared bathroom. He didn’t really think Haruki would have hidden evidence in a communal space where anyone could stumble across it, but they were here to search every inch of the compound and that was what he intended to do, even if it took all day and all night.

He wasn’t really sure what they would find if they did come across something. The ANBU mask and uniform, perhaps. The murder weapon wouldn’t be obvious; if owning a sword was proof of guilt then Tenzou may as well arrest himself. He doubted they’d find a blade smeared with the victims’ blood. The chakra repressing seals had been stored at the shrine, and if Haruki was as smart as an ANBU should be, he’d have hidden any other evidence out of the house as well, probably in several different locations. Tenzou wondered how much they’d missed when he and Kawaguchi had been scouring the ghost town. If there was an ideal place to hide evidence, it was there.

He was looking under the sink when Kawaguchi’s chakra crackled in the other room, and Tenzou shot to his feet and raced back to the bedroom. Kawaguchi was standing in front of the chest of drawers, and several of the photo frames were face down on the wood, their backs removed to reveal the white paper of the photographs. In Kawaguchi’s hand was a seal.

“What is it?”

Kawaguchi held it out to show him. It was a calling seal. Tenzou’s mind flashed back to the enclave in the shrine, the three calling seals and the missing fourth that completed the set.

“It was him,” Kawaguchi said flatly.

“We can’t know that until we test it,” Tenzou said. “It wasn’t him unless it reacts with the second calling seal from the shrine.”

“Then let’s get on that.”

Haruki and Hiashi were no longer at the entrance, but Hawk was still standing by the gate.

“They’re in there,” he said, gesturing towards the nearest building. “Bear went with them.”

“I need you to go back to the offices,” Kawaguchi said. “Fast as you can. In evidence there are three calling seals – a complete set and half a set. I need you to activate the single. Right now.”

Hawk glanced at the seal in Kawaguchi’s hand. “Got it.” He brought his hands together and disappeared.

Behind them, a door slid open.

“Given up yet?”

Haruki stood in the entryway, his arms folded tightly across his chest, glaring at them. Kawaguchi held up the seal.

“Can you tell us what this is?”

Haruki stepped closer and reached to take the seal, but Kawaguchi jerked it back out of reach. Haruki snorted but didn’t comment.

“It’s a calling seal,” he said. “What does it have to do with me?”

“You tell us,” Tenzou said. “We found it hidden in a picture frame in your room.”

Haruki stared at him. “I didn’t put it there.”

“We’re currently testing whether it matches a calling seal found at the site of Nara Kaede’s murder,” Kawaguchi said tightly. “If this seal activates in the next few minutes, I’m taking you to T&I.”

“I couldn’t have killed that medic,” Haruki hissed. “I was here under a fucking curfew because your friend back there came asking too many questions.”

“I’m not accusing you of killing Nara,” Kawaguchi said. “What about the others? Which ones would you like to confess to?”

For a moment Tenzou thought Haruki was going to hit him, and he stepped forward, placing a hand casually on the hilt of his sword. Haruki didn’t spare him a glance.

“This is bullshit and you know it is.”

“Come on, let it all out,” Kawaguchi said. “Tell me what you did and save me the hassle of forcing it out of you.”

Haruki moved sharply and Tenzou’s sword sliced through the air so quickly it almost didn’t stop at Haruki’s throat. Haruki’s hand uncurled, very slowly, from where he’d grabbed Kawaguchi’s arm. Kawaguchi watched him. He hadn’t moved.

“Be very careful, Haruki-san,” Tenzou warned. “You’re facing enough charges without adding assault of an ANBU to the list.”

“You fuckers,” Haruki breathed. The point of the sword brushed against his Adam’s apple.

Kawaguchi suddenly glanced down at the seal in his hand. He looked up, and Tenzou knew. He reached out and Kawaguchi passed him the sheet of chakra paper. It burned hot against Tenzou’s fingers.

“Hyuuga Haruki,” Kawaguchi said stiffly, “you’re under arrest for the murders of Fujimoto Akane –”

“Wait a second,” Haruki said, still unmoving at the point of Tenzou’s sword.

“– Hyuuga Eri and Matsuoka Sho, the attempted murder of Umino Iruka –”

“I didn’t kill anyone! You _know_ I didn’t, you know me, you bastard.”

“– the non-consensual genjutsu of a Konoha citizen, theft of ANBU equipment and the use of restricted seals without permission.”

Kawaguchi withdrew a pair of chakra-repressing cuffs.

“Put your hands behind your back,” Tenzou advised.

Haruki complied, and Kawaguchi snapped the cuffs shut over his wrists, binding them together. Tenzou sheathed his sword.

Behind Haruki, Hiashi was rushing out of the building, closely followed by Bear.

“You’re arresting him?”

“On suspicion of being The 3am Killer,” Tenzou agreed. “Thank you for your cooperation, Hiashi-san. You’ll be pleased to know that we no longer require your assistance.”

He grabbed one of Haruki’s arms and Kawaguchi took the other. Haruki was no longer protesting. There was still fury written all over his face, but it was slowly being replaced by something else. Tenzou thought it might be fear.

He didn’t know how to feel about it.

  


* * *

  


Haruki was still cuffed by the time he’d been processed, stripped of weapons, and led into the interview room. He seemed to have gained some control over his temper, and he was silent and unresisting as he sat down, but Tenzou wasn’t fooled into thinking the fight had gone out of him. It was there in the tension at his jaw and the straightness of his spine.

As usual, Kawaguchi didn’t waste time getting started.

“Any chance you’re going to confess now and save us all the time and effort?” he asked.

“Fuck you.”

“Haruki-san, this interview will be a lot easier for everyone if you answer our questions properly,” Tenzou advised.

Haruki glared at him. “I’ll answer properly when I’m asked a proper question.”

“Committed any murders lately?” Kawaguchi asked.

“You know I haven’t.”

It wasn’t the first time Haruki had claimed that Kawaguchi ought to know better. “Why do you keep saying that?” Tenzou asked.

“I taught that prick everything he knows about being ANBU. He’s known me since he was a bratty little kid and he knows I would never murder an innocent person.”

“You taught me to follow the evidence,” Kawaguchi said. He sounded unmoved. “The evidence led me straight to you.”

“I’ve never seen that fucking seal before. Someone planted it.”

“Not the easiest place to set up a frame job, inside the Hyuuga compound,” Kawaguchi pointed out.

“If you give us a list of people who’ve had access to your room in the last three days, we can verify whether that was a possibility,” Tenzou said. 3am had needed the seal up until Kaede had been killed, so if it had been planted, it must have happened after her death.

“No,” Haruki said. Tenzou stared at him, surprised. He’d expected Haruki to try and pass the blame. “The people I invite in are those I trust, and that goes for my family as well. Whoever put the seal there got in some other way.”

“How could someone get inside without being invited?”

“How the fuck should I know? It’s _your_ job to find that out.”

“You lied to us about knowing Nara Kaede,” Kawaguchi said. “Nara-sensei fixed Akiko-chan’s hand the last time your training hospitalised her.”

Tenzou expected another outburst peppered with four letter words, but Haruki was silent for a moment, frowning. “I don’t remember the doctor who treated her. It was a woman, I think, but I didn’t pay much attention.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“You don’t remember for sure if they met?” Tenzou asked him. Kawaguchi shook his head. “What about your niece? We could ask her.”

“She’s in the Forest of Death for the second chuunin exam,” Kawaguchi said. “I don’t know when she’ll be done.”

“This is a murder investigation,” Tenzou said. “We can take her out of the exam.”

“You will do no such thing,” Haruki said sharply. “You won’t talk to any of my students about this _at all_. They’ve worked too hard to be distracted at the final hurdle. Besides, I’m sure I did meet her if you’re right that she treated Akiko, but that doesn’t mean I helped her murder people.”

“So it’s nothing more than a huge coincidence that we can connect you to three of the victims and the doctor we know was involved,” Kawaguchi said.

“Do you even use that head for thinking anymore?” Haruki snapped. “I’ve been teaching genin teams for six years now. That’s a lot of time spent in the village teaching kids how everything works and taking care of all the responsibilities that come with being a jounin-sensei. I know half the bloody stay-at-home chuunin in Konoha because I have to deal with them to book training sessions and submit progress reports and do the research I need to make sure I’m training my students properly.”

“You think it makes you look less guilty if you hate every chuunin in Konoha?” Kawaguchi asked drily.

“Being difficult to get on with doesn’t make me a killer.”

“Being difficult to get on with is one thing,” Tenzou said, “but I’d phrase it a little more strongly considering your history with Iruka-sensei. If you want to explain your side of that story, you’d do best to tell us now.”

Haruki paused, and for a moment Tenzou thought he was going to confess to assaulting Iruka four years ago. “I don’t see how talking about that is going to convince you I’m not a killer. For the record, I still deny any involvement in that attack.”

“You’re not helping yourself here,” Tenzou said. “If you’re not honest and frank with us, how are we supposed to believe that you’re innocent?”

Haruki turned on him, furious. “All I’ve done from day one is be honest and frank with you. You seem to be confusing being polite with being helpful. No, I haven’t been fucking polite, but I’ve answered every damn question you’ve asked me as clearly and directly as I can. I could have made your job a hell of a lot more difficult but I haven’t because I don’t like the idea of a killer running loose in Konoha any more than you do.”

There was some truth in that, when Tenzou thought about it. Haruki may not have been nice about it, but he’d definitely answered all of Tenzou’s questions, and the only ones Tenzou was sure he’d lied about were those involving the attack on Iruka four years ago. He certainly hadn’t tried to conceal his feelings about the victims, despite the fact that he must have known how it would make him look if he claimed to hate them all.

“If you wanted to be helpful, why were you always so aggressive?” Tenzou asked.

“Do you remember the first question you asked me about this case?” Haruki asked. Tenzou couldn’t. “I do. You came up to me in front of my students and asked where I was on the nights of the murders. So you tell me why I should have played nice when you were accusing me of serial homicide. You’d clearly made your mind up before you’d even spoken to me.”

Was that really how their first interview had gone? Tenzou could remember that something about Haruki had rubbed him the wrong way from the beginning, but he wasn’t sure exactly what Haruki had said to cause it. Was Haruki’s antagonism his fault for choosing the wrong interview style and alienating him?

But Kawaguchi was having none of it. “Well done for being honest about your attitude problem, but that doesn’t mean you’re not lying about everything that matters. Of course you didn’t pretend to be Mr Nice Guy when Cat spoke to you. It wouldn’t be hard to discover what an act that was, and if you were caught lying about how much you loved the victims it would have been more suspicious than admitting you hated them all.”

Haruki jerked his arms as though he’d forgotten his wrists were still bound behind him. “Stop speculating and start asking me some questions I can work with to prove my damn innocence. I don’t believe for a second that the killer was so smart you didn’t find anything except a calling seal. I’ve already told you I don’t remember the doctor and you _know_ I didn’t kill her. What else do you have?”

What did they have? The stolen mask and uniform were still missing, the murder weapon would be impossible to identify, and the seals were all related to Kaede. There were no witness statements except Iruka’s, but they couldn’t exactly ask Iruka to identify a man whose face he’d never seen. Haruki was wrong – the killer was meticulous. Every inch of this had been planned and flawlessly executed. The only mistake the killer had made was to underestimate Iruka, but nobody could have accounted for seals that shouldn’t have existed yet.

“We have nothing,” Tenzou said simply. Kawaguchi turned to him sharply.

“Cat –”

“All we have,” Tenzou continued, “is a profile and a bunch of circumstantial evidence. That’s why everything currently rests on what you can tell us to prove your innocence, because the calling seal we found in your room is the only real evidence we have.”

“What are you doing?” Kawaguchi hissed.

“It’s enough,” Tenzou said, ignoring him, eyes trained on Haruki. “It all adds up to enough to send you to prison. You have no alibi, you’re connected to all of the victims, you were detained on suspicion of a similar attack on Iruka-sensei, and you have a close relationship with an ANBU who was victimised by the killer.”

Haruki had been watching him intently, but he sat up straighter at the last fact. “Which ANBU? Someone was hurt?”

“We’re done here,” Kawaguchi said.

Tenzou swivelled around to face him. “What are you talking about? We’re not nearly –”

Kawaguchi reached under the desk and pulled the recorder free from its attachment. “Terminating the interview at 12:13.” He switched it off and ejected the tape, then stood up and pocketed it.

Tenzou got to his feet, his chair scraping on the floor. “Put that back in. We’re nowhere near finished.”

“We’re wasting our time,” Kawaguchi snapped. “He’s not going to tell us anything. He doesn’t have to, because you just told him we have jack shit. So let’s get the fuck out there and finish what we started at the Hyuuga compound. Hard evidence is going to close this case, not a confession. We don’t _need_ a confession.”

Haruki was staring at Kawaguchi with dawning comprehension. “It was you, wasn’t it? The ANBU he was talking about. Did something happen to you?”

Kawaguchi didn’t even glance at him. “You can do what you want,” he said to Tenzou, “but the more evidence we find, the easier it’ll be to put him in prison, and I want that to happen as soon as possible.”

“What does it matter how quickly we work?” Tenzou shot back. “We have Haruki-san in custody. If he’s guilty then we’ve already taken the killer off the streets. If we rush this, we’ll make mistakes that might come back to bite us.”

“Right now, ANBU needs all the people it can spare. The sooner we close this, the sooner we can dismiss Umino’s guard and get reassigned ourselves.”

Tenzou couldn’t argue with that. They stared each other down for another tense moment and then Kawaguchi turned and stalked out of the room without a word.

  


* * *

  


Kakashi had decided to leave Kaede’s death alone for the moment. There was nothing more he could do without Tenzou’s support, not without raising ANBU’s suspicions even higher. Kakashi was aware that logic wasn’t the only factor in his decision, but he was trying to ignore the fact that on some level, he agreed with what Himura had said. He felt no sympathy for Kaede, only a grim sense of satisfaction, and it made him uncomfortable. When he felt less conflicted, he’d think again about Kaede’s murder, but right now he couldn’t trust himself to make the right decision if he did find the evidence.

He’d been thinking again about the victims and their research and had come to the conclusion that he was missing something important. For Matsuoka, Akane and Iruka, he knew exactly which projects had put them in 3am’s line of fire, but what exactly had caused Eri’s death was still a mystery. She’d inked the tattoos on Himura’s face, of course, and it was possible she’d made some correction or suggestion, but wasn’t it more likely that there was some other project she’d been more involved with that had drawn Kaede’s attention?

That reasoning had led Kakashi to the tattoo parlour. He hadn’t been here since he’d got his ANBU tattoo almost ten years ago, in the private room at the back of the shop. Parts of the shop were hazily familiar, like the small desk to the left of the entrance and the pictures of popular tattoos on the walls, but he’d either remembered the layout wrong or the shop had been remodelled in the last decade, and it gave him a strange jolt of unfamiliarity.

There was a bored-looking young woman sitting behind the desk, and she glanced up as he entered.

“Have you got an appointment?”

The trick was to be confident and direct. “No, I’m not here for a tattoo. I need to take a look through Hyuuga Eri-san’s files.”

The woman frowned at him, unsure. “Why would I let you do that?”

Luckily, Kakashi had prepared an excuse. He was rather proud of it. “Hyuuga Hiashi-san sent me.”

The woman stood up hurriedly. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise. He sent someone else last time. Please, follow me.”

It seemed like Hiashi had already terrorised the receptionist, as Kakashi had suspected. Naturally this would have been where Hiashi had started his own investigation considering Eri was the reason for his interest in the case. It was nice when people were predictable.

The receptionist led Kakashi down a short corridor and into a small office. It was currently unoccupied, and most of the space was taken up by filing cabinets and a cheap wooden desk.

“Did Eri-san keep files on her customers?” Kakashi asked.

“Not on everyone, but in this cabinet here there are files on customers who came for seal work. Eri-san wasn’t often involved in seal creation, but she acted as a consultant to the specialists who designed the tattoos. She also liked to research the theory herself before or after she’d finished the tattoo.”

“Thanks, that’s very helpful,” Kakashi said, and the woman scuttled out of the room.

As soon as he was alone, Kakashi started to explore the filing cabinet that the woman had pointed out. The customer files were alphabetised, which was a relief, although Kakashi would have preferred date order. In any case, he’d start with the file he knew was the most recent: Himura Daiki’s.

Except that the file wasn’t there. Kakashi searched the whole drawer, and then the other drawers, in case it had been put in the wrong place. And then he searched the other filing cabinets and the desk drawers. There was no mistaking it – Himura’s file had been removed from the office entirely.

Interesting. So where could it be? If it had been in Eri’s house, ANBU would have found it, and if Tenzou had come across it, he would have made the seals connection before Iruka had been attacked. It was possible that whoever Hiashi had sent had taken it after realising that Himura was the link between Akane and Eri. Or it was possible that 3am had stolen it and Himura’s seals were so important to Kaede that two people had died for them, but Kakashi didn’t quite understand how that could be. The seals Kaede had developed for Himura were tattooed on his face – if she’d wanted to keep her research a secret, that was the worst move she could possibly have made; half the village had got a good look at it by now. Unless it wasn’t the seals themselves but something Kaede had come across while researching them. Something that Eri had also stumbled across while she was doing her own research.

It was an interesting theory, but it wouldn’t do for Kakashi to jump to conclusions when he had a whole office full of potential evidence in front of him. First he would go through the other files and read any that mentioned Kaede. If he didn’t find anything else, he’d go to the Hyuuga compound and ask Hiashi if he had the file.

Kakashi lifted his hitae-ate and opened his sharingan eye. It was time to memorise some files.

  


* * *

  


After Tenzou had locked Haruki in a cell, he’d come back over to the ANBU offices. Kawaguchi was nowhere to be found, and had presumably gone back to the Hyuuga compound to continue searching for evidence. Tenzou had no intention of joining him there; he didn’t think they’d find anything else and he wanted to give Kawaguchi time to cool off after their argument in the interrogation room. He couldn’t understand why Kawaguchi had suddenly walked out. Yes, Tenzou had told Haruki that they had no evidence, but like he’d said, they barely needed any more. He hadn’t compromised the case by sharing that. Was Kawaguchi more stressed than he was letting on? Why would he be? Had he lied about how invested he was in the case?

It didn’t matter for now; they could talk about it later. At the moment, Tenzou was back in a private office going through the archives records for all four of the victims, Kaede and Haruki, trying to find a connection. Since they hadn’t found any of Eri’s or Akane’s work in Kaede’s office, Tenzou was approaching the seals connection from another angle. Kakashi’s theory of Kaede stealing research sounded good, but he could so far only prove it for Iruka and Matsuoka, and they couldn’t afford any holes in their argument if they wanted to convict the killer, whether that be Haruki or someone else.

He was also starting to wonder if Kakashi had been wrong. Not completely, but however Tenzou thought about it, he couldn’t imagine how Kaede could have been greedy enough to steal four different projects over the course of three weeks. Academic research was a time-consuming process; it would have taken Kaede years to put together four different projects, and that didn’t count her own research and bespoke seals commissioned by patients. It was too much.

What Tenzou was starting to wonder was whether there was a single project at the centre of all this. Something she’d been working on, some grand discovery that would put her name in the history books. Matsuoka could have discovered her work while going through her office, and if she’d used part of her new-found knowledge in Himura’s seal, Akane and Eri might have noticed it. Iruka had spent a lot of time in Kaede’s office – maybe he’d seen something there, or perhaps he’d discovered the same thing independently. He was certainly smart enough to figure it out on his own.

The problem was that Tenzou didn’t know enough about seals to verify that by looking through the evidence in Kaede’s office, and as far as he knew, Kawaguchi wasn’t hot on seals either. Even if Kaede’s office had been organised enough for them to determine which books, scrolls and notes were related to which of her projects, they had no way of knowing whether any part of her research was ground-breaking. If they’d had time, Tenzou would have called in an expert, but it would take someone weeks to go through everything in Kaede’s office, and although Tenzou didn’t want them to rush the case, he drew the line at waiting weeks looking into a theory that might not even pan out. The only option left to him was to check the archives records and look for a connection between the victims’ research that would narrow his search parameters.

After forty minutes of staring at pieces of paper, trying to remember if he’d seen each complicated title in someone else’s record, Tenzou sat back and drummed his fingers on the desk. There had to be a better way of doing this. Maybe he should give them to Kakashi and let his sharingan make short work of it, but Tenzou didn’t want to involve Kakashi any more than he had to. The rest of ANBU might be less suspicious of him now that they’d arrested Haruki, but Kaede’s death was still unaccounted for, and even Kawaguchi was still half convinced that Kakashi had somehow been involved with that. To protect Kakashi, Tenzou had to keep him at a distance for now.

So how else could he make this easier for himself? Tenzou flipped back through his notebook, and stopped on the page dedicated to Iruka’s research. 3am had been interested in the scroll Iruka had been using, the one that was currently sitting in the evidence room.

Tenzou logged into the computer. He could access any of the internal databases located in the Hokage Tower from the offices as long as he had permission from the hokage, which he’d obtained for the archives after Kakashi had shared his theory. It took him a moment to work out how to search for what he wanted, and then he typed in the title of Iruka’s research scroll.

It was a long shot, but he knew this particular scroll was important. 3am had searched Iruka’s house for it and then Kaede had tricked Iruka into telling her where it was. If even one of the other victims had looked at it, it would give him a place to start. The search loaded, and Tenzou checked the results. Then he forgot to breathe.

There was a name he recognised there, but it wasn’t anyone he’d expected to see. It was the second entry in the list, the last person to check out the scroll before Iruka; it had been checked out two and a half months before Matsuoka had disappeared and checked back into the archives three days before. The name on the record was Kawaguchi Rikuo.

Tenzou was so distracted that he almost missed the soft click of the office door opening behind him. Tearing his eyes away from the screen, he turned around in the chair, mind still racing, connecting dots he hadn’t realised existed.

Kawaguchi was standing in the doorway, watching him.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Tenzou stood up so that the computer screen was hidden behind his back.

“I thought you’d gone back to the Hyuuga compound.”

“I had,” Kawaguchi said. “Bear and Hawk are still there searching. Look, Tenzou, I wanted to apologise for blowing up in the interrogation room. I lost my temper when you told Haruki we didn’t have any evidence, and I still don’t understand why you did that, but I handled it the wrong way. I’m sorry.”

He hadn’t seen the archives records on Tenzou’s computer. Tenzou tried to relax, but it was difficult.

“I was trying to connect with Haruki-san,” he said. “Your tactics won’t work on him. You’re too aggressive; you push the suspect as far as you can, hoping to stress them out enough that they lose their self-control, but Haruki-san pushes right back. I imagine you learnt your technique from him.”

Kawaguchi frowned. “You’re right. But weren’t you going too far the other way?”

“Maybe. I just want to find out the truth, no matter where that takes me.”

Kawaguchi looked at him sharply. “You don’t think he did it.”

Tenzou decided to take a gamble. “I think he’s being framed.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Kawaguchi stepped further into the room and closed the door behind him.

“Do you have another suspect?”

“No.”

This wasn’t the time or place for a confrontation. Tenzou didn’t yet know what it meant that Kawaguchi had checked out a scroll that 3am was willing to kill for. He needed time to think.

Kawaguchi was watching him closely. “A couple of days ago you were convinced that Haruki was guilty. You’re the one who built a whole theory with him at the centre. Now we find some actual evidence and you change your mind?”

“He has an alibi for Nara-sensei’s death.”

“Then someone else killed Nara. Problem solved. What else?”

“It’s too obvious,” Tenzou said. “It all fell into place too easily. 3am is too clever for that.”

“Or maybe we were too stupid to find the evidence sooner.”

“You’re not stupid. You’re a long way from stupid.”

“Everyone makes mistakes.” Kawaguchi’s eyes slid past him to the papers strewn on the desk. “What have you been looking at in here anyway? Did you find something while I was out?”

“I’ve been looking through the archives records for everyone involved in the case. I think there was a single project connecting everyone, and if I can figure out what it was, it’ll lead me to 3am.”

Kawaguchi drummed his fingers on his thigh. “Have you figured it out?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, keep trying. I won’t offer to help, I can tell you’re still mad at me.” He opened the door, but turned back. “Nara’s death is your only real problem with Haruki, right? If I prove that someone else killed her, will you accept that he’s guilty?”

Tenzou hesitated. “How are you going to prove that?”

“Let me worry about that. Will you believe he did it?”

“Depends what I find in the meantime.”

Kawaguchi shrugged. “Fair enough. If you do find something, make sure I’m the first to know.”

“Of course.”

Kawaguchi left, shutting the door behind him. Tenzou let out a long breath and sank slowly back into his chair.

It couldn’t have been Kawaguchi. Not only did he not fit the profile, but he had an alibi. Tenzou brought up the ANBU mission logs and typed in Kawaguchi’s name. Off duty for Matsuoka, Akane and Iruka, but on the night of Eri’s murder he’d been on guard duty at the prison. Prison duty – why did that sound familiar?

“No,” Tenzou breathed. He shot out of his chair and went out into the open plan office. A quick glance around located the person he wanted to talk to: the ANBU who’d been arguing with Kawaguchi the day before about swapping shifts. She was working at one of the desks and Tenzou hurried over to her. She looked up as he approached.

“Tenzou, do you need something?”

Tenzou smiled, trying to look casual. “Just wondering – has Kawaguchi paid you back yet for that prison shift?”

She sighed. “No, but I heard you two made an arrest earlier, so I’m letting him off for today.”

“When was it, the shift you swapped?”

“The twenty-fourth of last month.” Tenzou’s heart sank. That was the night Eri had been killed.

“Why did he ask to swap with you?”

“Said he had a migraine.” She rolled her eyes, unsympathetic.

An illness with no visible symptoms that couldn’t be proved or disproved. Perfect if you were faking it.

“I’ll make sure to remind him he owes you,” Tenzou said, and then left before she could wonder why he’d been asking in the first place.

It could still mean nothing, but there was now a churning pit in Tenzou’s stomach. Kawaguchi’s alibi wasn’t valid, but by forgetting to turn in the paperwork, the shift still appeared on the system. He’d seemed annoyed that the other ANBU had noticed, expecting her not to realise she’d been underpaid, and by offering to repay her he was avoiding the loss of alibi by correcting it on the mission logs.

He was about to go back into the office when he heard Kawaguchi’s voice from the corridor. So he hadn’t left yet. Surprised, he poked his head around the corner.

Kawaguchi was standing by the doorway to the admin office and Tenzou did a double take when he realised who he was talking to. It looked like Himura had been coming out of the admin office as Kawaguchi was heading towards the stairwell and their paths had crossed. Himura was wearing plain clothes and holding a few sheets of paper loosely in one hand.

“I could come to the equipment room with you,” Kawaguchi was saying enthusiastically. Himura smiled.

“I know how to dress myself. You still haven’t grown out of trying to dodge work, I see.”

Kawaguchi punched him playfully on the arm. “Hey, I’ve been good recently. You’d be proud of me if you knew how much effort I’ve putting into things.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“Look, I’ve gotta go, but how about we go out for some drinks later to celebrate? Or we could hang out at mine. Your call.”

Himura shrugged. “Let’s see how we feel. Come find me when your shift ends.”

“Will do.”

Kawaguchi clapped him on the shoulder before darting off towards the stairs. Himura turned and saw Tenzou watching.

“I didn’t expect to see you back so soon,” Tenzou said as Himura came over to him.

“Me neither,” Himura confessed. “But whatever’s in these seals really helped speed up the healing process. Passed my physical with flying colours.”

“Are you on shift today?”

“No, I’m just here to fill out all the forms and pick up my uniform. Tomorrow’s my official starting date.”

Tenzou hesitated. “I didn’t know you and Kawaguchi were so close.”

Himura’s lips quirked up. “We’ve been friends since we were kids, and he’s been there for me a lot recently. Honestly, I don’t think I’d be back here if not for all the help he’s given me.”

Tenzou tried to smile. “Glad to hear it. Welcome back.”

Himura carried on towards the equipment room and Tenzou considered his next move. He needed to talk to Kawaguchi, but he was going to put that off for as long as possible. At the beginning of this case he’d been hesitant to suspect any ANBU; interrogating his partner was the last thing he wanted to do. Before then, he was going to go back through his notes with a fine tooth comb and look for something – anything – that would explain all this away. First, though, he was going to take a detour through the evidence room and take a look at the scroll that was causing him so much trouble.

The 3am case was only taking up one box in the evidence room, and Tenzou found Iruka’s sealing scroll without a problem. He was storing all of Iruka’s research inside it so that no one could access it except himself and Kawaguchi, whose chakra signature he’d added to the locking seal. Evidence or not, it was still restricted information.

Tenzou opened the sealing scroll, releasing Iruka’s notes and the books he’d taken from Iruka’s bookcase, just in case they became relevant. He glanced over them, and then looked again, more carefully. The churning sensation grew stronger in his stomach.

“Fuck,” Tenzou breathed, and let his head drop forwards.

The medical scroll was gone.

  


* * *

  


After leaving the tattoo parlour, Kakashi had tried to gain entrance to the Hyuuga compound to ask Hiashi about Himura’s missing file, but he’d been denied entrance by a worried looking clan member who’d told him Hiashi wouldn’t be available for the rest of the day. Kakashi had tried to insist, but then he’d looked past the man’s shoulder and seen an ANBU inside the compound, watching him, and had decided it was best to make his retreat. Something was going on, and it was probably best not to get involved.

Instead, he made a beeline for the Hokage Tower. His luck probably wasn’t good enough for him to bump into Tenzou outside again, but maybe he could rope someone into fetching him from the offices if he was there. If not, Kakashi didn’t know where to find him. He doubted any ANBU would be willing to share even that much information with him at the moment.

The Tower was much busier than usual when Kakashi entered. He idly wondered how the chuunin exams were going; it was a shame that Team Seven had been forced to withdraw, but it was for the best. Even if Naruto had been willing to leave Iruka’s side, Kakashi was too distracted to have been a good mentor to them during the exams. Besides, there was no rush. If anything, they’d have a better chance of making it through to the final round next year.

Kakashi ducked into the quiet of the alcove where the door to the ANBU stairwell was tucked away just as someone opened the door and stepped out from the offices. For a moment he thought he had great timing, and then he realised he was facing Kawaguchi. Kakashi swallowed a sigh. There was no use being petty; after all, if anyone knew where Tenzou was, it was Kawaguchi.

“Tenzou’s busy,” Kawaguchi said before Kakashi could ask.

“I need to talk to him. It’s about the case.”

“If you have information, you can tell me. Actually, I was about to track you down. We need to talk.” His voice was even and Kakashi couldn’t tell if Kawaguchi was going to apologise or if it was time for round two at T&I.

“Will I be cuffed this time?”

“Only if you give me a reason to cuff you.”

Kakashi considered his options. He would much prefer to speak to Tenzou, but he had the feeling that refusing to talk to Kawaguchi might qualify as a reason to cuff him.

“Fine. Do you want to try and grab a meeting room?”

Kawaguchi shook his head. “Too busy. I was thinking we could go somewhere quieter.”

Kakashi looked at him warily. “Are you trying to lure me back to T&I?”

“Not right now.” Somehow that wasn’t entirely reassuring. “But I have a place in mind.”

Kawaguchi led the way out of the Tower and then picked up the pace, gesturing Kakashi to follow him. They were heading south, and Kakashi had no idea where they could be going. Only when they reached the quiet streets of the ghost town did he begin to suspect, and by the time they arrived at a small shrine set back from the road, he’d made up his mind that this was definitely round two of their interrogation.

They stopped underneath the torii gate and Kawaguchi turned to him.

“This is a nice quiet spot, wouldn’t you say?”

“This is about Nara,” Kakashi said flatly. “She died here, didn’t she?”

Kawaguchi climbed the short steps to the shrine’s entrance and deactivated the ANBU wards placed on the door. He took a step inside and then half turned back towards Kakashi.

“Come inside.”

Kakashi hesitated. Kawaguchi turned and disappeared into the shadows of the shrine, beckoning Kakashi over his shoulder. For a moment there was stillness, and then Kakashi followed him inside.

The interior of the shrine was bare, rotting wood, the icons and furniture long gone. It was dark; the windows were boarded up except for one, where the shutters hung loosely from the window frame. The air smelt of damp wood and stale blood, and beneath that, if Kakashi concentrated, the perfumed smoke of long faded incense.

Kawaguchi was standing at a spot near a small alcove in the wall, examining something on the floor. Kakashi stepped closer, and as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting he could make out a large, dark stain where Kaede’s blood had been absorbed into the floorboards.

“Why are we here?”

Kawaguchi looked up at him. “First, why don’t you tell me why you were looking for Tenzou?”

“I suddenly don’t feel like sharing.”

“Don’t be like that. You wanted to come here, didn’t you?”

“Why are you assuming that?” Kakashi snapped. “Because a murderer always returns to the scene of the crime?”

“Because you’re investigating the murders,” Kawaguchi corrected smoothly. “Besides, popular belief is that you couldn’t have killed Nara because you were being arrested at the time.”

“Popular belief,” Kakashi repeated. “But not what you believe.”

“You know what my speciality is? Espionage. That’s why I chose a snail as my code name, actually, because it’s something that hides inside itself. Spying is like that. Your false identity is like an armour you carry with you everywhere, shielding your real self.” Kakashi had a vague feeling he’d heard this before, although like the rest of ANBU he’d always viewed Kawaguchi’s code name as a running joke. It was easy to forget that the man behind the mask was an intelligent and deadly assassin. 

“Your point?”

“Years of living in enemy territory gathering information taught me a lot of things, including how important it is to have eyes and ears in more than one place at once.” Kawaguchi’s tone was still even, but Kakashi could taste the danger in each syllable. “It would take a lot of chakra to send a clone this far from the hospital, but you could probably have managed it. Or you could have used genjutsu to send an unwilling assassin. Nara was attacked from behind; quite a handy way to avoid getting arterial spray all over someone who might wonder where the blood came from. And that’s all without considering the possibility of a willing accomplice.”

Kakashi was starting to get angry. “Care to show me some of that evidence you must have if you’re making such confident accusations?”

“Personally, I hope you didn’t have an accomplice,” Kawaguchi continued, ignoring him. “Things are messy enough as they are and it’d be so much extra effort to chase down someone else after I lock you up.”

“Has the thought crossed your mind that maybe 3am killed Nara?”

“We’ve arrested 3am.”

Kakashi’s spine straightened with a jolt. “What the fuck are you talking about?” He remembered the ANBU at the Hyuuga compound and his mental gears turned. “Hyuuga Haruki?” It must have happened today, otherwise Tenzou would have told him.

“How much has Tenzou been telling you?” Kawaguchi mused, and Kakashi cursed himself internally. “See, Kakashi, the thing is, 3am has an alibi for the night Nara was killed. That leaves me no choice but to suspect someone else, and right now you’re the best option I have.”

Kakashi bit down on Himura’s name. If it came down to it, he wouldn’t keep silent about Himura at the cost of his own freedom, but considering his own suspicions were as baseless as Kawaguchi’s, he didn’t want to throw Himura to the wolves unless he had to.

Kawaguchi was watching him. “Nothing to say?” He came closer, three measured steps, until he was almost within arm’s reach. “Come on, Kakashi, you can tell me. I know why you did it. Nara was the one who decided Umino had to die. Because of her, someone stuck a sword through your boyfriend and left him for dead.” Kakashi felt his fingers twitch, itching to form a fist. “I know _why_ you did it. I just need you to tell me _how_.”

“This is your tactic? You think you’ll get a confession if you ask nicely enough?”

Kawaguchi spread his arms and shrugged. “Why not? It’s just the two of us here. Get it all off your chest.”

Kakashi frowned. There was a tactic at play here, and it wasn’t simply asking for a confession. Kawaguchi was standing too close, a step away from striking range, and his head was tilted back enough to expose the soft skin of his throat. If Kakashi really was Kaede’s killer, he might be tempted, in this hidden spot with no witnesses around, somewhere he’d already completed a successful murder and where Kawaguchi was now seemingly forgetting his basic shinobi training of keeping his distance and his guard. But Kakashi knew better. After all, the other essential skill of espionage was the ability to read others and manipulate them.

So that was Kawaguchi’s game. How reckless.

“This is too risky, even for you,” Kakashi said. “Taking a suspect to a secluded spot and goading him to attack you so you can arrest them. Especially someone of my level. If I wanted to kill you, I could.”

Kawaguchi seemed unmoved that Kakashi had figured him out. “So confident. Want to test that theory?”

“No,” Kakashi said flatly. “I had nothing to do with Nara’s death and I’m certainly not going to hurt you. I’m serious about this being a bad plan, Kawaguchi. You shouldn’t use yourself as bait without back-up waiting in the wings. You’re lucky I’m not the killer you think I am.”

Kawaguchi didn’t reply, even when Kakashi turned and walked out of the shrine. Kakashi was grateful; he’d already wasted enough time here, he needed to find Tenzou and tell him about Himura’s file as soon as possible, especially if Haruki had been arrested. Something important must have happened if Tenzou had gone back to Haruki, and Kakashi dearly wanted to know what it was. Maybe between them they’d finally have all the answers.

  


* * *

  


Early in the afternoon, Phoenix knocked on Iruka’s door and Naruto let her in. Iruka had been dozing on the couch, trying to catch up on sleep during daylight hours when the house felt safe, and he pulled himself carefully into a sitting position when Phoenix came into the room. He wished he was wearing something other than pyjamas, though his self-consciousness was misplaced considering he’d worn pyjamas every day he’d been in the hospital until he’d been discharged, so it wasn’t like Phoenix wasn’t used to seeing him underdressed.

“Sorry to disturb you,” Phoenix said, “but I thought you’d like to know that we’ve made an arrest.”

Iruka had been stifling a yawn, but he was suddenly wide awake. “You mean...?”

“You caught 3am?” Naruto asked, wide-eyed and excited.

“He’s been formally charged with The 3am Killer’s crimes,” Phoenix said, and Iruka caught the subtle difference between what she’d said and what Naruto had asked.

“But you’re not sure it’s him,” Iruka said.

“Evidence is still being collected, but something was found in his home that led to his arrest.”

“Who is it?” Naruto asked.

“Hyuuga Haruki.”

Iruka sat back and absorbed that, aware that Phoenix was watching him. Naruto looked between them, frowning.

“Someone from Hinata-chan’s family? Hey, Iruka-sensei, do you know him?” A thought struck him. “Wait, wasn’t one of the people he killed from the Hyuuga clan? He killed his own family?” He was staring at Iruka as though he thought Iruka had the answers for why anyone would do such a thing.

“Sometimes people do terrible things,” Iruka said. It was all he could say. He couldn’t understand it either.

“We’re dropping your guard from two ANBU to one,” Phoenix said. “Hopefully even that’s unnecessary, but we don’t want to dismiss it entirely just yet.”

There was something she wasn’t saying. “Why would I still need protection if you’ve arrested him?” Iruka asked.

Phoenix hesitated. “I want to be honest with you. Haruki-san has an alibi for the night Nara-sensei was killed. It’s entirely possible that she was killed by someone else, but we can’t overlook the possibility that you’re still at risk, whether from the same man who attacked you or from someone else.”

“Do you have any suspects for who killed Kaede-sensei?”

Phoenix looked away. “There are rumours. Nothing concrete.”

Iruka looked down at his lap. He wasn’t sure how to feel. He’d expected a weight to be lifted when the killer was caught, but he barely even felt relieved. Instead, a worry gnawed at him at the mention of his guard being reduced, and the possibility that it wasn’t over yet. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. An arrest was supposed to be definite and conclusive, not entry into another kind of limbo.

“Iruka-sensei?” Phoenix was watching him again. “If there’s anything wrong, please tell me.”

“It’s nothing, really,” Iruka said. He almost left it at that, but then he remembered how much better he’d felt after he’d been honest with Kakashi and decided being open was worth another shot. “It’s just – I thought everything would feel different when you caught him, but I don’t feel any better at all. I’d been counting on it being some great breakthrough and I don’t understand why it doesn’t feel that way.”

Naruto came and sat next to him, looking concerned. Phoenix was silent for a moment, thinking.

“Recovery is a state of mind,” she eventually said. “Getting over a trauma like this has less to do with whether you _are_ safe and more to do with whether you _feel_ safe. It seems like there’d be a correlation between the two: that when your attacker is locked away, you should feel less at risk, but trauma and logic don’t go hand in hand.”

“Then what should I do?” That feeling of being useless was creeping back.

“Don’t rush yourself,” Phoenix suggested. “How have you found it sleeping in your own bed again?”

Iruka hesitated. He wanted some real advice and therefore didn’t want to pretend that the last two nights had been stress-free, but he also didn’t want Naruto to realise that Iruka had lied to him.

Phoenix saw him glance at Naruto and put two and two together. “Well, never mind that. Actually, how would you feel about going outside?”

“Iruka-sensei can’t go out yet,” Naruto said immediately. “He walks really slowly and he needs to sit down a lot.”

“Of course,” Phoenix said gently. “I mean a very short walk, maybe around the building. It might help to make you feel more normal if you go outside and do something. You’ve been cooped up inside for quite a while now.”

Iruka considered it. He did miss being able to go outside. Not only that, he missed the independence and the confidence he’d had walking through the village without having to spare a thought to his own safety.

“I think I’d like that,” he said. Naruto pursed his lips disapprovingly but Phoenix nodded.

“Why don’t I come back later and the two of you can go out? I’ll stay out of sight unless you’d prefer otherwise, but I’ll be close by at all times.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” The more Iruka thought about it, the more he warmed to the idea. “If you come back in an hour or so I should be ready.”

“Are you sure?” Naruto cut in. “The doctor said you should rest.”

Iruka ruffled his hair affectionately. “I won’t overdo it, I promise. We’ll just go for a short walk. You’ll come with me, won’t you?”

“Obviously,” Naruto said.

Iruka smiled. “Then it’ll be fine. Nothing bad will happen, I promise.”

Naruto didn’t look convinced.

  


* * *

  


Tenzou had barely taken the time to shut down the computer and seal away his notes before he set off after Kawaguchi. Unfortunately, it took long enough that by the time he made it out of the offices, Kawaguchi had vanished. Tenzou gave the Tower a once over, went back to the Hyuuga compound and even poked his head around the door of T&I, but no one had seen Kawaguchi and no one knew where he might have gone.

He should have asked Kawaguchi where he was going instead of letting him run off by himself, but it was too late to regret that now. Tenzou stood in the square outside the tower, thinking. Was there much point chasing after Kawaguchi now? It would be bad if Kawaguchi disposed of the scroll, of course, but there was other evidence. Kawaguchi had undoubtedly stolen the mask and uniform, that he could prove, and so even if the rest of the evidence was circumstantial, it would be at least as much as they currently had on Haruki. Kawaguchi hadn’t yet realised that Tenzou suspected him; he wouldn’t run when he thought he was getting away with framing Haruki. All Tenzou had to do was put together the evidence he had and wait for him to come back to the offices. Then he could recover the scroll if Kawaguchi hadn’t destroyed it and take him down to T&I for questioning.

He was about to head back into the Tower and start putting together a file on Kawaguchi when he heard someone call his code name across the square. Turning, he saw an unhappy-looking Kakashi approaching him.

“You need to have words with Kawaguchi when he gets back,” Kakashi said without preamble. Tenzou was instantly alert.

“You’ve seen him? Where is he?”

Kakashi paused, taken aback by the urgency in Tenzou’s voice. “He took me to the shrine where Nara died in a misguided attempt to prove I killed her.”

Of course – Kawaguchi had said he was going to prove that Kaede hadn’t been killed by Haruki. The obvious person for him to blame was Kakashi.

“He was trying to bait me into attacking him,” Kakashi continued. “He obviously has no evidence since, you know, I’m innocent, so he needed an excuse to arrest me. Plus, trying to take him out would have been as good as confessing that I had something to hide.”

“But you didn’t do anything stupid.”

“Of course not. Like I’d fall for something so basic. But if I had been the killer, he would have been in serious danger. Who faces a possible enemy all alone like that? Do me a favour and yell at him a bit later.”

“I was actually already planning on it,” Tenzou said. Kakashi frowned at him, picking up on his disquiet.

“Kawaguchi said you’d arrested Haruki. What’s going on? I was so sure it wasn’t him.”

Tenzou glanced around. Nobody was obviously eavesdropping, but it was hard to tell in a shinobi village. “We found a calling seal in his room. It’s the partner of the seal Nara-sensei was using to meet with 3am.”

“That could easily be a frame job.”

“You’re very sure.” Tenzou thought so too, but he wanted to hear Kakashi’s thoughts.

“Well, isn’t it obvious? The killer planted the seal the same way he made an ANBU steal the mask. Genjutsu. He could have given the seal to Haruki and made him hide it in his room and then forget all about it.”

The same way he’d stolen the mask – Kakashi could be right. Kawaguchi could have walked right in with the calling seal in his pocket, just like he’d walked right into the equipment room, safe in the knowledge that it was too obvious for anyone to believe.

“I was actually looking for you when I ran into Kawaguchi,” Kakashi was saying, oblivious to the direction Tenzou’s thoughts were taking. “I have some information. Or I think I do. I don’t know whether it’s important or not, but I was looking into Eri, trying to figure out what she was working on that interested Nara. I went to the tattoo shop and looked through her customer files.” He paused, clearly expecting Tenzou to scold him, but continued when Tenzou merely waited for the rest of the story. “I checked every damn file in that place. Apart from Himura, the most recent seal tattoo Nara worked on was eleven months ago, which is too long ago to be relevant. And Himura’s file was missing.”

“Missing?”

“Definitely gone. I checked the whole office. I thought maybe Hiashi had taken it, but they wouldn’t let me into the compound to ask.”

Tenzou shook his head. “Hiashi-san wouldn’t have taken evidence. He might have had it copied, but he would have left the original. He has too much respect for the law to take something ANBU might need.”

Tenzou’s brain was ticking into overdrive. He’d theorised that one research project was at the root of the murders – could it be Himura’s eyes? Kawaguchi was a close friend of Himura, he’d possibly been involved with Akane’s research and had used his higher clearance to legally check out the scroll. Iruka had said it was to do with replacing missing body parts, which could have been useful for Himura’s eye transplant. Had Kaede used Himura as some sort of test for her project? Had Kawaguchi helped because he wanted Himura to regain his vision?

Kakashi was clearly also giving it some thought. “Himura fits the profile,” he said flatly. “If Nara was involved in some project that benefitted him, he might be cleaning up after her.”

That also made sense. Tenzou struggled to remember the timeline. “Himura was blind until after Eri-san was killed.”

“He could have been faking it. He told me the seals speeded up the healing process.”

“But I think...” Tenzou paused. “Matsuoka-sensei went missing before Himura had the surgery.”

“You don’t know exactly when Matsuoka died,” Kakashi countered. “Think about it. If Nara did something illegal to help Himura, they’d be in it together. They’d have reason to get rid of anyone who might find out. Unless you have a good reason why Himura couldn’t have done it, you need to bring him in for questioning at the very least.”

“I think it was Kawaguchi,” Tenzou blurted out.

Kakashi tensed. “What? Why?”

“You’re right, it’s about Himura. I’m sure it is. But that doesn’t mean he knows what Nara-sensei did to him. Those seals are too complicated for him to read. They’re probably too specialised for anyone who hasn’t done the right research, that’s why he can wander around in public and no one’s figured it out. But what if Himura’s just a guinea pig?”

“Why Kawaguchi? He doesn’t fit the profile. He’s not a genjutsu user.”

“He doesn’t have to be if Nara helped him kill the victims. You proved that it was possible when you tested it with Shikaku-san.”

“But I thought we agreed that wouldn’t have worked on whoever stole the mask...” Kakashi trailed off as understanding dawned. “It was Kawaguchi.”

Tenzou was about to reply when he noticed someone heading straight towards them. It was Honda, the medic who’d performed the autopsies.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Honda said, sparing Kakashi a glance. “I’ve got Nara Kaede’s autopsy report for you.”

“Thank you,” Tenzou said automatically, taking the proffered document. “You didn’t have to bring it over yourself.”

“Usually I wouldn’t, but I wanted to mention something I found on Matsuoka Sho’s body,” Honda said. Tenzou perked up. “Something kept bugging me about the corpse, so I went back over it. You remember that the eyes were missing?”

“You said insects had eaten them.”

“That’s what it looked like at first glance, but when I checked more closely I noticed small cuts around both eyes. They’d been disguised by insect activity, but the original cuts were very clean, as though made by a small knife or a scalpel. Based on that, I don’t think the eyes were eaten away at all. I think they were cut out of the face.”

Tenzou turned to Kakashi to see him wearing the same wide-eyed look of realisation.

“Himura’s eyes,” Kakashi breathed. “Matsuoka didn’t discover the research – he was the donor.”

Tenzou turned back to Honda, who was blinking at them uncomprehendingly. “Thank you. You have perfect timing.”

“Glad I could help,” Honda said. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“We have everything,” Kakashi said lowly as Honda walked away. “It wasn’t Haruki. It’s nothing to do with him. We have all the pieces.”

Tenzou bit his lip behind the mask. “Almost all. We know _why_ but we still don’t know _who_. Kawaguchi or Himura. Which one?”

  


* * *

  


Iruka had decided that if he and Naruto were going to leave the house, they may as well do something useful while they were at it. Therefore they were currently ambling towards the small supermarket on Iruka’s street to pick up a few bits and pieces. Naruto had fussed a lot when they’d set off, trying to make Iruka take the walking stick or at least lean on him, but he’d relaxed after seeing that Iruka could walk just fine as long as they kept to a snail’s pace.

It was strange to be outside again. Iruka hadn’t been outside since before he’d been attacked, apart from the journey back from the hospital, when he hadn’t been allowed to walk by himself. There was something wonderfully normal about strolling to the shop, and Iruka felt himself relax even as his wound protested at the extended exercise.

“Do you want to wait out here?” Naruto asked when they reached the supermarket. There was a wooden bench close by, and Iruka was grateful for the sight of it.

“That might be best,” he admitted, lowering himself carefully to sit down. “Do you have the list?”

“We need three things,” Naruto pointed out, but at Iruka’s expectantly raised eyebrow he sighed and pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket. 

“Good. I’ll see you in a few minutes then.”

Naruto hesitated. “Are you sure you’ll be OK out here by yourself?”

“Of course. I’m not really alone – Phoenix is around to keep an eye on me.”

That seemed to reassure Naruto, who nodded and then disappeared into the shop.

Iruka leaned back against the bench and hoped Naruto wouldn’t hurry. The shop was a two minute walk from his house at a normal walking speed, but it had taken ten and tired him out much more than he’d anticipated. He was glad to rest before they’d have to walk back.

His rest ended prematurely, however, when he noticed an ANBU walking towards him too quickly for it to mean anything but bad news. For a moment, Iruka thought it was Phoenix, but both the mask and body type were wrong. There was a man underneath the armour, and the mask wasn’t one that Iruka had seen before.

“Iruka-sensei,” the ANBU said lowly when he drew level with the bench, “I need you to come with me now. Something’s happened. It’s best not to discuss it here.”

Iruka sat up straight, tense. “Where’s Phoenix?”

“Keeping an eye out. Please, we need to hurry.”

He reached out and took Iruka’s arm gently to help him rise. Iruka had been starting to panic, but he felt reassured by the strength of the arm that easily took some of his weight as Iruka leaned on the ANBU. There was nothing to worry about. Two ANBU were watching out for him and they were going to take him somewhere safe.

“Naruto’s still in the shop,” he said, half turning, but the ANBU’s grip on his arm held him still.

“Phoenix will make sure he’s safe. You’re the one in danger right now.”

“I can’t really walk that well...”

“I know. Don’t worry, I’m going to get you out of here.”

Iruka glanced back towards the shop again. He didn’t want to leave Naruto alone, but if something 3am related was happening, Naruto would be safer away from him. Iruka was the target and, at the moment, the least able to defend himself if it came to a fight. Iruka briefly wondered why Phoenix hadn’t been the one to come for him, and who this ANBU was, but now wasn’t the time for questions. He took a calming breath and placed his trust in the man who still had a grip on his arm.

“OK,” he said. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to place your bets! All will be revealed in the next chapter. For the record, it's entirely possible to work out who killed who and why from the clues I've left you, though I'm sure some of you also have gut feelings about what happened. Happy theorising!


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All Is Revealed

Iruka regained consciousness slowly, as though waking from a deep sleep. The first thing he became aware of were the lights, shining dully somewhere above him, forcing him to turn his head to the side and blink away the after images. The surface beneath him was firm but not hard, and Iruka shuffled uncomfortably. His arms were dangling off the sides of whatever he was lying on – a bed? A table? – and he tried to pull them up only to feel the familiar tug of chakra wire against his wrists.

That was when he remembered, and adrenaline shot through his veins so violently he could taste it, metallic and cold, at the back of his tongue. The ANBU had lured him away from the street into a narrow alleyway and then everything had sunk into darkness. Iruka couldn’t even remember how he’d been knocked out, but his head didn’t hurt and he didn’t feel injured aside from the aching wound in his stomach, so at least he hadn’t taken any damage – yet. Not that it mattered. Iruka knew with a dreadful certainty what was going to happen to him now.

Panicking wouldn’t help. Iruka took a long, slow breath and let it out. He’d been captured by the enemy; he needed to stay calm and assess the situation. He was lying on some kind of narrow, uncomfortably cushioned table, his ankles bound and arms hanging off the sides, his wrists tied together by a length of chakra wire that stretched underneath the table, effectively preventing him from sitting up. Above him, there were lights attached to the ceiling by adjustable poles, dim, but giving the impression of brightness against the darkness of the room. There was no natural light. What Iruka could see of the room was bare and cast in shadows. It was dark enough that at first his eyes skipped over the tall shadow leaning motionless against the wall, but the part of his brain that never stopped being shinobi urged him to look again. The breath flew out of Iruka’s lungs. There was someone in the room with him.

The ANBU who’d abducted him stepped nonchalantly out of the shadows, his quiet footsteps the only sound besides Iruka’s shallow breathing. It was like one of Iruka’s nightmares, except that the mask the ANBU wore wasn’t blank. It was painted with a spiral that spun out from between the eyes, ending in an elongated line that edged along the jaw. From Iruka’s position lying down, it looked like a simple drawing of a snail.

“It’s been a while, Iruka.”

The ANBU’s voice was deep and even, but what got to Iruka was the way the other man used his first name, casually, intimately, as though they were close. He brought his hands up, and Iruka thought he was going to take off the mask, but instead he made a hand sign and released the henge he’d been wearing.

The mask was gone, but the armour remained. The ANBU stepped closer, right up to the side of the table, and the light shone on his face. Iruka didn’t recognise him, but he couldn’t help but stare. The man’s eyes were surrounded by intricate tattoos, curling up past his eyebrows and down to his cheekbones, threading up over the bridge of his nose.

“Who are you?” It came out as a whisper.

“My name is Himura Daiki,” the man said. “And I’m The 3am Killer.”

  


* * *

  


“Kakashi-sensei!”

Kakashi looked up in time to see Naruto pelt across the square and skid to a halt in front of him and Tenzou, breathing hard, eyes wide and panicked.

“What happened?” Kakashi asked. “Shouldn’t you be with Iruka-sensei?”

Naruto flapped his arms, distressed. “He’s gone,” he panted between gasps.

Kakashi missed a breath. “What do you mean, he’s gone?”

“Iruka-sensei is _gone_ ,” Naruto said again. “He was supposed to wait for me outside the shop, but when I came out he wasn’t there. And Phoenix is gone too. She was meant to be watching us, but I couldn’t see her anywhere and she didn’t come when I called.” He was almost in tears.

“What were you doing _outside_?” Kakashi demanded. “No, never mind. Did you see who took him?”

“You think someone _took_ him?” The tears did start then, and Kakashi cursed himself.

Tenzou stepped in. “Naruto-kun, we need a mission report. Tell us everything.”

Naruto drew in a long, shuddering breath. “Phoenix said it would be good for Iruka-sensei to get out of the house so we walked to the shop. It’s really close, you can see it from Iruka-sensei’s kitchen window. I went inside and he sat on a bench and waited, but when I came out again he was gone and Phoenix wasn’t there even though she promised she would be.”

“Did you see anyone or anything suspicious when you came out of the shop?”

Naruto shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said, turning back to Kakashi. “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have left him alone.”

Kakashi squeezed Naruto’s shoulders and looked him firmly in the eye. “It’s not your fault. 3am is very, very smart. He’s been planning this since Iruka-sensei survived.”

“But Phoenix said you caught the bad guy!”

“We thought we had,” Tenzou said. “But we arrested the wrong person. Kakashi, we have to find him.”

“Obviously,” Kakashi snapped. “But where would he take Iruka? Naruto, did you check Iruka’s flat?”

Naruto nodded. “I went back there and no one was home, so then I came to tell the hokage but I saw you instead.”

“The shrine, maybe,” Tenzou said. “Or – there was a room I found at the old hospital. I don’t know if it’s connected, but it’d been cleaned recently. Snail and I were looking for Matsuoka-sensei’s kill site when we stumbled across it.”

“Good enough place to start,” Kakashi said. “Let’s go. _Now_. Naruto, go tell Sandaime-sama, get him to send out an ANBU search.”

“Tell him we have two suspects,” Tenzou added. “Kawaguchi Rikuo and Himura Daiki. Can you remember those names?”

“I think so,” Naruto said between sniffs.

Kakashi gave his shoulder a final squeeze. “Iruka-sensei will be OK, Naruto. I’m going to find him and bring him back to you. I promise.”

He started running before Naruto could respond, Tenzou hot on his heels.

“You shouldn’t make promises you might not keep,” Tenzou said. Kakashi gritted his teeth.

“I always keep my promises.”

  


* * *

  


“I don’t understand,” Iruka said, fighting to keep his voice steady. “I don’t even know you. Why would you want to kill me?”

Himura sighed and adjusted one of the lights. Iruka realised that the bulbs weren’t working; there was seals attached over the fittings that were giving off the light.

“It’s nothing personal,” he said. “You simply know too much about a subject I’d prefer to keep secret.”

He reached out and lightly tugged Iruka’s shirt up to reveal the angry red tear in his stomach. Iruka yanked his wrists up reflexively, the chakra wire humming taut between them, preventing him from raising his hands above the side of the table.

“Kaede said that you’re the only person in the world who could have survived the way you did,” Himura mused, running a fingertip over the stitches. Iruka forgot to breathe. “You’ve caused me a lot of inconvenience, but I can’t help but be impressed.”

“Kaede-sensei was working with you,” Iruka said. Cat had suggested as much the last time they’d spoken, but Iruka hadn’t wanted to believe it. Only now did he feel the shock of the betrayal.

“Yes,” Himura confirmed. “She’s the one who told me you had to die.”

“Why?”

“Self-preservation.” He paused and his gaze moved up from Iruka’s navel to his face. “You know, I was going to kill you while you were under the genjutsu this time, but I wanted to talk to you first. I respect you for surviving my first attempt, although I have to admit that when I first heard you were still alive I was very angry.” His fingers skirted Iruka’s wound again, this time with a light scrape of fingernails against delicate flesh.

“I still don’t understand,” Iruka said, trying to ignore the way every nerve in his stomach was twitching to escape Himura’s touch. Naruto would have noticed he’d gone missing by now. If he could keep Himura talking for long enough, maybe someone would find them. He had to believe that he might still survive; otherwise he would lose the fragile control he had left, and he knew that if Himura deemed him not worth talking to, he wouldn’t hesitate to finish what he’d started that night in Iruka’s bedroom.

“Of course you don’t,” Himura said dismissively. “But you will by the time I kill you. You’ll know that when you outsmarted me with your medical seals, it was a fluke. You’re a chuunin teacher and I’m ANBU – there’s no comparison between us.” He took his hand off Iruka’s stomach and turned around, leaning back against the table and staring at the wall, clearly satisfied that Iruka was no threat. A short sword was strapped to his back, the sword that had already been inside Iruka’s body. “If you’re waiting for someone to come and rescue you, you can crush that hope now. No one knows about this place; there’s no way they’ll ever find us. Have you figured out where we are?”

Iruka glanced around again, but his attention was too focused on Himura to put the clues together. “No, where is this?”

“We’re in one of the operating rooms in the old hospital.” That explained the mysterious table Iruka was lying on – it was an operating table. Himura spread his arms expansively. “Take a good look. This shitty room is where I was reborn.”

Iruka had no idea what he was talking about. Beneath the operating table, he’d pulled the chakra wire taut between his wrists and was rubbing it against the metallic underside of the table in an attempt to saw through it. It was slow progress; he could only move his right wrist because Himura was leaning by his left arm and would notice any movement there. Iruka wasn’t sure what he’d be able to do if he freed his arms, but any advantage was better than none.

“I went blind six months ago in the line of duty,” Himura said. “It took everything from me. My career as a shinobi, my ability to do the simplest of tasks, the whole life I’d planned ahead of me. You know the helplessness I felt – I made you feel it too on that night you should have died. I saw it in your eyes, the knowledge that everything you’d hoped for had disappeared in an instant, completely outside your control.”

Iruka shivered at the memory, and Himura glanced at him.

“We’re actually alike in some ways,” he said. “We both gave up at first when things looked hopeless, but when we realised what we had to do to survive, we did everything in our power to achieve that. It was Akane who helped me see that there was still hope. She was my partner of three years but we’d been close since we were kids. She started researching ways to cure my blindness, even when she had to take books and scrolls from the archives illegally. I would have given up if not for her.”

“But you killed her.” The realisation took Iruka by surprise, as though he hadn’t known that Akane had died.

Himura made a low groan in his throat and his head slumped forwards. “I didn’t want to,” he said, and his voice, previously calm and collected, was now wracked with real regret. “I wish every day that it could have been different, but in the end she would have betrayed me if I hadn’t stopped her. Really, it was Kawaguchi’s fault.” His head tilted up again, anger now drawing lines at the corners of his mouth. “The henge I used when I took you – that’s Kawaguchi’s mask. He was my other best friend as a child. He still is my best friend as far as he knows.”

It was ridiculous, but Iruka was shocked that Himura would so casually reveal an ANBU’s name and mask to him, even though he knew it wouldn’t make any difference when he was dead.

“Kawaguchi’s the one who found the scroll. He didn’t even read it, he didn’t have the time to learn seals the way Akane did. He just used his clearance to check out the things she couldn’t, so she wouldn’t have to break the law any longer – not that that stopped her. Akane found the perfect seal in that scroll, but there was a problem with it. The reason why it was forbidden knowledge.” He looked at Iruka. “That scroll is why you had to die, Iruka. You used it too, for your research. You studied the damn key and learnt the base symbols.”

Iruka suddenly understood. The forbidden scroll he’d used for his research, that 3am had been searching for on the night of his almost murder, that Kaede had taken from his room as soon as she could ask him where it was. The scroll that dealt with horrific transplants and prosthetics made of flesh. He looked at Himura’s eyes and nausea bubbled in his stomach.

Himura leaned closer and shone one of the lights into his face. “I wasn’t sure you were really a danger, but I couldn’t take the risk. Why don’t you set my mind at rest now and show me that I did the right thing?” He closed his eyes so Iruka could see the tattoos in full. “Can you read my seals?”

Iruka could. “They’re like a reservoir for chakra. You have someone else’s chakra running through a set of pathways that have been cordoned off from the rest of your face and turned into their own separate system. According to that scroll, the most efficient way to ensure a transplant is successful is to power the transplanted body part with the donor’s chakra.” The implications of this hit him full on. “But chakra disappears when a body dies. To seal his chakra in your eyes, the donor had to be alive when you performed the transplant.”

Himura opened his eyes and gave him a small, tight smile. “Exactly right. You have no idea how relieved I am that you know that. Now I can rest easy knowing I didn’t kill anyone who didn’t have to die.” The genuine sentiment behind his words chilled Iruka to the bone. “Of course, we couldn’t perform a transplant like that in the main hospital. Could you imagine?” He laughed. “So we performed the surgery right here.” He flung his arms out. “In this very room.”

  


* * *

  


As they reached the ghost town, Tenzou and Kakashi split up. Kakashi knew where the shrine was, and he darted towards the torii gate as Tenzou sped past him towards the hospital. He didn’t know whether he was wasting his time re-visiting the operating room, but it made sense. Kaede couldn’t have taken Matsuoka’s eyes in the new hospital, but she could have cleaned and sterilised an operating room in the old hospital and then transported the eyes to Himura’s surgery. The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed.

He didn’t remember the route through the hospital corridors, but he did remember where to find the window he’d smashed outside the operating room. Tenzou used chakra to dash straight up the wall and then he swung himself through the pane of broken glass, landing soundlessly on his feet.

The door was right in front of him, the sign still smeared from where Tenzou had wiped away the dust. Tenzou paused for a moment, listening, but everything was silent. It was possible that 3am had soundproofed the room, however, so Tenzou couldn’t assume there was no one inside. He took out his torch and drew his sword with his other hand.

Tenzou flung the first door open, swept his light over the prep room, and, finding that clear, charged forwards and kicked in the door to the operating room.

It was empty. Tenzou swung his torch over the floor and beneath the operating table, hoping he wouldn’t find a body, but there was no sign that anyone had been here since he and Kawaguchi had discovered it.

Of course, if Kawaguchi was the killer he wouldn’t come back here, not when Tenzou had seen it. Tenzou sheathed his sword with more force than necessary. In that case, he could only hope that Kakashi had found Iruka and 3am at the shrine.

However, that hope was also dashed when he’d crawled back down the hospital wall and found Kakashi looking for him, alone and frantic.

“Where else?” he demanded as soon as Tenzou was back on the ground.

Tenzou shook his head helplessly. “I don’t know. The Forest of Death is being used for the chuunin exams and he wouldn’t be stupid enough to kill Iruka-sensei in his own home. I’m sorry, Kakashi, I’m out of ideas.”

“Fuck,” Kakashi hissed, stalking off a few steps and then turning sharply on his heel and pacing back.

“Can’t you use your ninken to track him?”

“I don’t have anything of Iruka’s for them to scent. Do I have time to get something?”

“I’ll get something,” Tenzou said. “I think they’re nearby somewhere. The ghost town is perfect for committing crimes and he’s already got away with two murders here. Look through the rest of the hospital. I only checked the operating room, but there are hundreds of other places to hide here. I’ll fetch something of Iruka-sensei’s and check in at the Tower.”

“Send someone straight here with whatever you get. _Straight_ here.”

“I know, I will. I don’t want Iruka-sensei to get hurt either.”

Kakashi nodded curtly and then dashed through the main entrance into the hospital building without another word. Tenzou brought his hands together and prepared to use a series of body flickers. It would take more chakra than he would usually spare, but time was of the essence. Wherever Iruka was, he’d be waiting for them to find him. Tenzou only hoped he would still be alive when they did.

  


* * *

  


“It was Kaede’s idea,” Himura said. “We couldn’t exactly rip someone’s eyes out in the main hospital, but it was easy enough to sterilise two operating theatres over here.”

“Two theatres?”

Himura gestured to the operating table. “Only room for one in here. These things are bolted to the floor, we couldn’t bring another one through, and Kaede refused to kneel on the ground and take Matsuoka’s eyes out there.” It made it worse, somehow, to hear the man’s name. “So once Kaede had caught him in her shadow jutsu and brought him here, she anaesthetised him in the other room, removed his eyes, and brought them through to me. Once the eyes were in place, she brought him through and performed the chakra transfer to the seals.”

Beneath the table, Iruka thought he felt some give in the chakra wire, and started sawing more desperately. “But unless you sterilised the whole building you’d have both been contaminated as you came to the rooms.”

Himura waved a dismissive hand. “Naturally we thought of that. We used ball barriers to move through the hospital.”

Ball barriers were a type of non-static barrier seal that created a spherical shield around the user. They were the preferred type of barrier to use in defence against earth style jutsu as they prevented the user’s feet from directly touching the ground, unlike most other types of barrier, and rolled with the user when they walked, allowing for free movement.

“As you can see, the surgery was successful. It was wonderful. My vision was completely restored after a single day. We kept Matsuoka restrained in the operating room until I could kill him. Kaede offered to do it herself – she was nervous, wanted to end it quickly – but I wanted to use him as a test of my abilities.” Himura frowned and stepped away from the operating table, pacing to the wall and back. “It went well, but Matsuoka was the first mistake. Fucking Kaede,” he hissed. “I told her not to choose a donor who could be connected to me, so what does she do? Chooses her academic rival. She knew it would implicate her but she couldn’t resist.”

Iruka couldn’t imagine Kaede mutilating someone out of spite. He hadn’t known her well, but he’d always liked her. She’d been passionate about her work and pleasantly professional. “Kaede-sensei went along with this whole plan willingly? But she wasn’t – she never –”

“Seemed the type?” Himura finished for him, calmer again. “If we’d known each other before this happened, you’d have said the same about me. Everyone’s humanity has a price. For me, it was my sight. For Kaede, it was the chance to perform a medical miracle. You must know how obsessive she was about her work. She did try, at first, to manipulate the seal enough to be useful without the donor’s chakra, like Akane asked her to. But when she realised it was impossible, Akane was the one who gave up, and Kaede was the one who offered me a chance to regain my old life at the cost of my morality.”

“Did Akane-san know?” Iruka tried to remember how Akane had seemed during the last few months of her life, but their encounters had never gone beyond handing over a stack of files and making idle small talk. He’d never realised she was dealing with so much emotional strain.

“No, we hid it from her,” Himura said. His voice became gentler when he spoke about her. He’d clearly loved her, which made it all the more awful that he’d murdered her. “I wore the bandages even after I could see. I thought maybe I could persuade her to accept what I’d done...” He trailed off and shook his head. “No, what’s the point of lying? I always knew she was too good a person. She would have reported me if she’d known, and she could read the seals, so by agreeing to go through with the surgery, I was forfeiting her life. I knew that from the beginning. I just wanted a few last days with her, that’s why I tried to fool myself that she would still love me if she found out.”

“Did you leave her to die alone like me?” Iruka asked, his fear suddenly bursting out of him as anger. “How could you do that? Did you even love her at all?”

Himura struck like a snake, his fingers pressing hard against the angry red line of Iruka’s stomach. Iruka cried out and tried to press his body further against the table. The exit wound on his back stung at the pressure.

“I couldn’t stay with her,” Himura growled. “I couldn’t – watch her die. I wore the mask, she didn’t know it was me, I spared her having to look at my face and knowing she’d been betrayed. But I was so _angry_ , knowing she’d give up on me like that, that she’d value someone else’s life above mine.”

“You could have done it differently,” Iruka gasped.

“No,” Himura growled. “It had to be like that. I needed her to _understand_. To feel the way I felt.”

He took a calming breath and released the pressure on Iruka’s wound, lying his palm flat on Iruka’s abdomen, beneath his navel. It felt like a threat. 

“I thought that was the end of it,” he said. “I had to hide Matsuoka’s body so no one would connect his death to Kaede, so I buried him in the Forest of Death, but I couldn’t do the same to Akane. I wanted her to have a proper burial, a funeral. Besides, there was no real way to connect her death to me. I was staying at my mother’s house, who still thought I was blind, and I took a sleeping tablet as soon as I got home. As far as Tenzou was concerned, I’d been medicated all night long.” He glanced at Iruka. “Cat, I mean. You must have met him.”

Beneath the table, Iruka’s hands had stilled. He couldn’t risk moving either arm while Himura was standing so close and watching him. His wrists were pulled as far apart as they could go, and he hoped he’d weakened the chakra wire enough that it would break soon under the strain without him having to saw at it anymore. The bite of it against his skin was a background throb that he was barely conscious of.

“But then there was Eri,” Himura groaned. “Doing her own fucking research, pestering Kaede, trying to figure it all out. She had a copy of the seals, if she’d found the scroll it all would have been over. So I killed her and stole her file. And then there was you. Thank God you were working with Kaede instead of trying to go it alone for your little project.”

“Why didn’t you destroy the scroll if it was so dangerous?”

“That would have been the plan, but Akane had put it back in the archives before Kaede had even worked up the nerve to suggest we try the seal as it was and pay the consequences. Then I made another mistake and decided to wait until after I’d killed you to destroy the scroll, because you knew Kaede had it and could ask for it back at any moment. It wouldn’t do to make you suspicious before I had you where I wanted you. But then Kaede fucked up again – couldn’t keep her damn story straight when Tenzou questioned her and they seized her office and everything in it.” He huffed irritably, but didn’t seem that worried.

“ANBU has it now,” Iruka said. “They know you were looking for it in my apartment. It’s only a matter of time before they figure everything out.”

Himura shook his head pitifully. “At this point, it doesn’t matter if they do. I’ve been preparing for that possibility from the very beginning. That’s why I chose Kawaguchi as my scapegoat.” He smiled without humour. “No matter what happens now, he’s going to take the fall.”

Beneath the table, the chakra wire snapped.

  


* * *

  


Tenzou didn’t have time to break through Iruka’s wards to get something of his for Kakashi’s ninken to scent, so he swung by the Academy on his way to the ANBU offices, disrupting the class and snagging a hair tie from Iruka’s desk, to the bemusement of the substitute teacher. He bypassed the hokage’s office, knowing that ANBU would already have been assigned and the most up to date information would be available at the offices.

When he reached the top of the stairwell, it became clear that something was happening in the offices. Even Tadaomi had poked his head out of the admin office, and Tenzou ran past him as he recognised Kawaguchi’s voice, ripping his mask off on the way.

The open plan office was buzzing with tightly controlled aggression. Almost every ANBU in the offices had been drawn to the room, and they were tense, hands poised by weapons pouches or ready to form hand seals. Tenzou pushed through to the centre of the room.

Kawaguchi was pushed down over one of the desks and Phoenix was cuffing his hands behind his back. Tenzou’s insides clenched. Kawaguchi was 3am. He’d expected this and dreaded it all at once.

“Listen to me,” Kawaguchi was saying, trying to keep his voice calm because shouting in a room full of wound-up ANBU was a terrible idea. “You’ve got it wrong. But I know who it is, just let me speak to Tenzou.”

“Where’s Iruka-sensei?” Phoenix snarled, a hand on the back of Kawaguchi’s neck, pinning him to the desk.

Kawaguchi stiffened. “What do you mean? Umino’s missing?”

“Don’t play games with me. You attacked me and you took him somewhere, and if you’ve hurt him I will make you regret it.” Her fingers dug into his skin and Kawaguchi hissed in pain. “I was conscious for long enough to see your damn mask, so there’s no use lying. You might as well spit it out. _Where is Iruka-sensei_?”

Kawaguchi twisted in her hold and caught sight of Tenzou.

“Tenzou, listen to me, it was Himura, it was all about his eyes.”

“I know about that,” Tenzou said. “Where’s the scroll?”

“Back in evidence.” Kawaguchi was speaking quickly and urgently. “I was looking through it this afternoon and there was a seal, a transplant seal, and I checked Nara’s surgery dates again and Himura’s operation wasn’t there. I should have noticed the first time, but I missed it. They did the transplant in the old hospital, in the room we found. If Umino’s missing, that’s where he’ll be.”

Phoenix looked at Tenzou, who shook his head. “I’ve already checked. The shrine too. No one was there.”

Phoenix grabbed Kawaguchi’s arm and hauled him upright. “I don’t have time for this. If you won’t tell me where Iruka-sensei is, I’ll take you to T&I and I’ll _make_ you tell me.”

Kawaguchi stiffened, knowing well what that meant. His eyes locked on Tenzou, pleading, even as Phoenix started pulling him towards the exit, and Tenzou did nothing.

“It _has_ to be the hospital,” he insisted, turning back over his shoulder, raising his voice so Tenzou could hear him. Tenzou recognised the look in his eyes, of mental gears screaming around. Phoenix had dragged him halfway down the corridor, and Tenzou watched him go, unsure, conflicted, and then Kawaguchi yanked his shoulder around, his eyes wide.

“There were two of them,” he called. “Matsuoka _and_ Himura. In the hospital, Tenzou –”

Phoenix grabbed the mask at the side of his head and pulled it sharply over his face before adjusting her own, and then the stairwell door slammed shut on the rest of Kawaguchi’s sentence.

Tenzou didn’t need to hear the rest. He understood. Two men, one operating table. Kaede was a professional, she wouldn’t dump Matsuoka on the floor and crouch over him lest she accidentally damage his eyes.

“There are two operating rooms,” Tenzou breathed, and tore out of the offices.

  


* * *

  


“Didn’t you say Kawaguchi-san was your friend?” Iruka asked. “You said he helped Akane-san to research a cure for you. Why would you frame him?”

He held his hands still beneath the table. Himura hadn’t realised that he’d freed them, but the chakra wire was still tied around each of Iruka’s wrists, restricting the chakra flow to his hands. He couldn’t use jutsu, and his ankles were still bound, but he could now move off the operating table if need be and use his arms. It wasn’t that reassuring, but it was something. For now, however, he wanted to keep Himura talking for as long as possible.

“Because he was the only believable scapegoat,” Himura said. “And because, in a way, this was all his fault. He’s the one who found that scroll; he saved me and ruined me all at once. It’s ironic, because I barely told him anything about the research. I never told him Kaede’s name or that the seal we used was from one of the scrolls he found. At first I was too depressed to talk to anyone about it, but from the moment Kaede and I decided to go through with it, I knew he might be useful.”

“Surely he’ll figure it out and tell ANBU the truth when they arrest him.”

“By that point, they won’t believe a word he says. That’s the beauty of it. To frame him, I had to be thorough. The thing about Kawaguchi is that he’s smart, much smarter than I am.”

Iruka stared at him in disbelief. Himura was easily one of the most intelligent people he’d ever met. He couldn’t imagine anyone smarter. Himura noticed the expression on his face and smiled, amused.

“Anyone in ANBU could think up a plan like this,” he said. “The difference between me and someone like Kawaguchi or Hatake is that each time I needed to make a move, I spent hours thinking about it from every angle, weighing up the risks, noticing the details. You’re friends with Hatake, so you must know how quickly he thinks. For him, a strategy like this is a thirty minute job. Kawaguchi’s the same. When we were at school together, I graduated when we were eight, but Kawaguchi finished with our class when he was eleven. His grades were always average – almost _exactly_ at the middle of the class, in fact. It was only after he joined a genin team and got bored enough to try for chuunin that even I found out he’d been faking it since day one when we were five. He didn’t want to be sent into the field early, so he hid his talent. That’s the kind of person he is: fucking brilliant but completely unmotivated.”

Himura scowled, and Iruka thought he might be jealous. Iruka had known children like that, who’d known they were good enough to be rushed through graduation but had feared the consequences of being sent on missions while they were still so young. Himura himself had probably gone through a difficult time after his graduation; he looked to be about the same age as Kakashi, meaning he’d probably been a child soldier in the war.

“It was complicated, setting him up. He’s too good to have left a neat trail of evidence, so I had to work in layers. I used a genjutsu to make him steal an ANBU uniform and a blank mask for me – I’ve been ANBU for nine years now; the uniform wasn’t just a disguise, I needed it to feel _right_.”

“If you made Kawaguchi-san steal from ANBU, why didn’t they catch him?”

Himura sighed, as though Iruka were being purposefully dense.

“Because it was too obvious. Everyone knows there’s a security camera in the equipment room, and he used his pass code to log everything out. On the surface it looks like a frame job, but if you think a level deeper, isn’t it too obvious if you’re trying to frame someone? No one would believe it. And that’s what plants the seed of doubt. Originally I planned to hide something at his house – the mask, probably, when I no longer needed it – and that would have been enough to make anyone think the equipment room stunt was a double bluff.”

“Originally? You mean that isn’t what you did?”

“A better opportunity came up. Tenzou kept asking Kaede about Hyuuga Haruki, thought he was the killer. So I used another genjutsu on Haruki and planted evidence in his house. He and Kawaguchi are – well, something. Friends, enemies, I’ve never quite figured it out. But they’re close enough, and since Kawaguchi was also working the case, he’d probably gone into Haruki’s house recently, either professionally or otherwise, giving him ample opportunity to try and frame Haruki.”

Iruka took a moment to set that straight in his mind. “You were framing Kawaguchi-san by making it look like _he_ was framing Haruki-san.”

Himura laughed. “It’s so simple, but with enough layers that nobody will see it. And for the finishing touch, I used a henge of Kawaguchi’s mask when I took out Phoenix and abducted you. It was tricky, making sure Phoenix got a glimpse of me before I knocked her out, but I’m sure she saw the mask. ANBU might be arresting Kawaguchi as we speak.”

“But if you kill me after he’s been arrested, they’ll know he didn’t do it,” Iruka pointed out. He knew better than to think he could persuade Himura not to kill him, but certainly wanted to highlight any flaws in Himura’s plan.

“They can’t estimate your time of death that accurately,” Himura said dismissively. “As long as you’re killed at around the same time, there’ll be the possibility he nipped off to murder you and then returned to the offices. I’ve been there myself today, so I know he wasn’t around when I came to get you. Thanks for leaving the flat, by the way. I’d already done recon on your apartment, and I was prepared to abduct you straight from your house, but it was better on the street. There could have been other witnesses who’ll testify against Kawaguchi.”

Himura’s gaze was back on Iruka’s abdomen, where his hand still rested, and Iruka had the terrible feeling their talk was coming to an end. His fingers trembled beneath the operating table. He had a length of chakra wire between his wrists; if he moved in exactly the right way at the right moment, maybe he could get it around Himura’s neck and strangle him. Or would it be easier to try and break his neck, using the advantage of surprise? He had to form a plan soon, because the more Himura had told him, the more Iruka had come to believe that no one was coming to save him. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the dark, he could see the chakra repression and soundproofing seals on the walls. Even if someone stood right outside the door, they’d have no idea what was happening inside.

“What about Kaede-sensei?” he asked, desperate to keep the conversation going. “Why did you kill her?”

“She was a liability,” Himura said shortly. “I didn’t want to kill her. I was grateful to her, even after all the mistakes she made. If not for her, I’d still be blind and useless, but ANBU had got too close to her. If I’d let her live, she would have broken down eventually and told them everything. She never thought it would escalate as much as it did – she justified killing Matsuoka because she thought he was a bad person, but the way she looked at me after she heard about Akane...” He shook his head, face slipping briefly into something like regret. “I killed her quickly, at least. She barely suffered.”

He took a step back and looked at Iruka more appraisingly. Iruka tensed. It was time.

“Do you see now?” Himura asked. “The difference between me and you. You survived through luck and a single moment of brilliance, but I’ve been working at a level you can barely comprehend. That’s the difference between shinobi and ANBU.”

“Someone will figure it out,” Iruka said. His breaths were coming faster now, his hands twitching in anticipation as he fought to keep them still and not draw Himiura’s eye. “You might fool ANBU, but Kakashi will never stop digging.”

Himura laughed loudly. “Hatake’s already on my side. He thinks I killed Kaede, but I’ve been working on him. He feels sorry for me because of Akane, and once you’re dead he’ll empathise completely. When Kawaguchi figures it out and accuses me, which he undoubtedly will, Hatake will defend me to the very end. He’s a good ally to have; Tenzou’s wrapped around his little finger.”

Iruka felt sick. The thought of Himura comforting Kakashi after his death, worming his way closer so he could manipulate Kakashi into defending his innocence – it was more than Iruka could bear. He tensed his muscles, ready to go for Himura’s throat when the killing blow came.

“I won’t let you do this,” he snarled.

“You’ll be dead,” Himura reminded him.

He reached up and drew his sword. It whispered against the sheath, a slow, deliberate sound.

“I preferred the look on your face the night I first put a hole through your stomach,” he said. “I wonder if I can make you look at me that way again.”

The sword swung down and Iruka lunged.

  


* * *

  


Kakashi stood in the dusty corridor and closed his eye. Since Tenzou had left, he’d raged through the main hospital building, flinging open every door and chasing after every sound, but he hadn’t found anything. Now he forced himself to stay still, although it was a struggle when he knew that somewhere in the village Iruka was running out of time, and tried to think.

He didn’t have all the facts, but he might have enough if he only thought about them the right way. Himura had taken Matsuoka’s eyes. Kaede had removed the eyes in the operating room and then taken them to Himura’s operation at the new hosipital.

No, that didn’t make sense. If Himura’s transplant had taken place at the new hospital, someone would have wondered where Kaede had got the eyes. Hospitals were bureaucratic nightmares; even if it were possible to cover it up, it would be much easier to perform the whole transplant here. Himura must have known – whether that meant Kawaguchi was in the clear was uncertain, but Himura had definitely been in the operating theatre with Kaede and Matsuoka.

Kakashi’s eye snapped open. Two unconscious bodies undergoing surgery required an extra operating table, an extra room, or somewhere to store the eyes between the surgeries. The third option was impossible in a hospital that had been abandoned for fifty years, and considering how difficult it would be to move an operating table through into another room, the most likely solution was a second room.

“Shit.”

He’d seen Tenzou crawling out of a window on the second floor of the left wing, and that was where he headed now, skidding around the corner of the building and throwing himself at the brickwork, hauling himself up and through into the corridor, shoes crunching on broken glass.

In front of him was a sign labelled Theatre 2. Kakashi smacked the door open; the prep room inside was dark and empty, and no light shone around the cracks of the door to the operating room. Tenzou had checked this one and come up empty. Kakashi let go of the door and moved down the corridor, picking a direction at random, searching for Theatre 1.

He came across a room that had once been used for x-rays, and for a moment he thought he’d come the wrong way, but then he moved past to make sure and wiped the dust off the next door’s sign. _Theatre 1_.

Kakashi didn’t waste the time it would have taken to reach for a weapon; he kicked in the door and flew through the prep room to burst through the second door.

Himura’s sword flashed down, and Iruka twisted on the operating table, batting it away with the back of his fist so the blade caught him on the side instead of piercing his stomach. For a moment, Himura was caught off balance, and Iruka’s arms came up to his neck in a clumsy hold aimed to snap the spinal cord.

A fist connected with Iruka’s stomach, and then Himura was turning to swing the sword at Kakashi, who ducked and deflected the blade with a kunai.

“Hatake,” Himura snarled. “For fuck’s sake, how many more people will I have to _kill_?”

He feinted to the left and then thrust the sword at Kakashi’s chest. Kakashi dodged neatly and delivered a kick to Himura’s wrist that sent the sword skittering across the room. He swung his kunai towards Himura’s throat, but Himura grabbed his arm and used his momentum to throw him to the ground. Kakashi flung a handful of shuriken towards his legs, forcing Himura to back off and giving Kakashi the chance to spring back to his feet.

Behind Himura, Kakashi could see Iruka clutching at his stomach where Himura had punched his wound. His face was pale and agonised and there was blood seeping through his shirt where the sword had slashed him. It was astonishing he’d managed to attempt any kind of attack on Himura, and he was clearly unable to help Kakashi any further in the struggle.

“Iruka, are you all right?”

“Yes,” Iruka gasped out. “But Kakashi, I can’t help, I’m sorry.”

“That’s fine.” Kakashi narrowed his eyes at Himura. “ANBU is on the way.” He hoped that was true. At the very least, Tenzou had said he’d send someone with something of Iruka’s, but Kakashi wasn’t sure they’d find the operating room.

“You’re bluffing,” Himura said calmly, shifting his stance.

“Cat knows about Matsuoka’s eyes. He found the other operating room. Even if you made it out of here, it’s too late – the murders have already been linked back to you.”

Himura shook his head, disturbingly unruffled. “All I need to do is play dumb and the evidence will lead to Kawaguchi. It would have been helpful if you’d been sympathetic enough to back me up on my ignorance of the whole plan, but I can do it without you.”

Kakashi’s hand tightened around the kunai. “You were using me. Everything you said was an act – all that shit about Nara being 3am. If you’d blamed Kawaguchi or Haruki I might have got suspicious, but you fooled me into thinking you were completely on the wrong track.”

“You shouldn’t have made it so easy.”

While they’d been speaking, Kakashi had been working out the best angle of attack. The room was too small for many of his offensive jutsu – the last thing he wanted was to accidentally hurt Iruka – and projectiles would have to be used sparingly and carefully for the same reason. That left taijutsu and kunai, but Kakashi’s best bet was probably to use the sharingan. If he could catch Himura in a genjutsu, he could end this with the least amount of damage.

Himura’s hands flashed together through a rapid series of hand signs, but Kakashi darted forwards and aimed a barrage of punches, forcing Himura to dodge and disrupting his jutsu before he could complete it. Himura was still standing between Kakashi and Iruka, but Kakashi was hesitant to change their positions and put Iruka into Himura’s line of fire. He swung the kunai towards Himura’s face and caught him on the leg with a kick. Himura hit the ground and rolled, then snatched up his fallen sword.

Kakashi swore and yanked up his hitae-ate, and then ducked to avoid the shuriken aimed at his eye. Himura surged forwards, and Kakashi took two defensive steps back, but the attack had been a feint, and he realised too late that Himura wasn’t aiming for him.

The sword stopped an inch away from decapitating Iruka and hovered at his throat.

“Put it away, Hatake,” Himura ordered.

Kakashi reached up and re-covered the sharingan. If he’d been quick, he might have been able to catch Himura before he could make a move, but Kakashi wasn’t about to take risks with Iruka’s life.

On the operating table, Iruka was half sitting and trying to stem the flow of blood from his side, which was now dripping softly onto the floor. He caught Kakashi’s eye over the sword and then flicked his gaze down to his hand. Out of Himura’s line of sight, he used field sign language. _Distraction?_

“No,” Kakashi said sharply. As long as Iruka wasn’t a threat, Himura would want to kill Kakashi first, but the moment Iruka made a move, that plan would change.

Himura pulled a length of chakra wire out of his pocket and threw it over to Kakashi, who caught it.

“Tie some around each of your wrists.”

Chakra wire acted like chakra repressing cuffs if used to bind a shinobi. Himura wanted to neutralise him, and Kakashi had no choice but to comply. He cut two lengths of the wire and tied one around each wrist, pulling his mask down and using his teeth to pull the knots tight.

“Good,” Himura said. “Now step forwards slowly until I tell you to stop.”

“Kakashi, don’t,” Iruka said urgently. “You have to leave and tell ANBU.”

“If he leaves, I’ll kill you.”

“I’m not going anywhere while you’re in danger,” Kakashi said. He stepped closer to Himura, keeping his movements even and measured.

“That’s close enough,” Himura said when Kakashi was slightly more than an arm’s length away. “Now turn around.”

Iruka tried to push himself up without slitting his throat on the sword’s edge. “It won’t help anyone if you die too!”

“I’ll be fine,” Kakashi said gently. He just needed one opening. One slip of Himura’s attention, but not at the cost of Iruka. He turned around, every instinct screeching in protest at turning his back on an enemy.

“Reach an arm out behind you.”

Kakashi frowned but obeyed. The soft pad of a finger touched the inside of his wrist, slipping between his glove and the sleeve of his shirt.

“Touch style genjutsu is such an inconvenience,” Himura sighed. “You have to get so _close_.”

The world muted into soft tones and meaningless images. Kakashi’s whole focus narrowed to a handful of sensory points: the pressure of the chakra wire around his wrists, the fading burn of the sharingan in his eye, the exact shading of the shadows on the wall. Somewhere there were voices, but Kakashi couldn’t concentrate: he was consumed by his body’s sensations. Thoughts and memories slipped away like water through a sieve.

The door burst open somewhere in the background; a shout, a sharp movement, and a glancing blow to his shoulder that wrenched him to the surface with a shuddering gasp.

Kakashi blinked in the new scene before him. The door had been ripped off its hinges and Tenzou was standing in the gap, hands flying through seals. The edge of Himura’s sword was embedded in Kakashi’s shoulder at an angle, and when Kakashi twisted his other side to grab for the hilt, he found Iruka already clutching at it over Himura’s hands, trying to force the blade up and away from Kakashi as Himura strove to complete the stroke that had aimed to sever Kakashi’s head from his body.

A branch whipped around the blade and spun it away from all three of them. Iruka overbalanced and almost fell off the operating table, and Kakashi moved to catch him. Behind him, Himura darted back from the branches that tried to wrap around him, casting an explosive fire jutsu. Kakashi felt the burst of heat on his back and bent over Iruka, shielding him.

Tenzou moved further into the room, keeping himself between Himura and the door. Fresh wood sprouted from the charred remains of his first attack.

“Give up,” he said. “It’s over, Himura. I know everything.”

“After all this you expect me to rot in jail?” Himura snarled. “I didn’t take these eyes so I could stare at the inside of a cell for the rest of my life.”

His hands smacked together, but Tenzou’s branches jolted to life again and whipped around him, tightening as Himura completed the justu. And then he was gone, and the branches strained and snapped around the door, torn from its hinges, that took his place. Tenzou whirled around towards the doorway, but Himura followed up his substitution with a body flicker. There was a rush of air and the door to the prep room banged against the wall with the speed of his exit.

“Shit.” Tenzou’s branches retracted and he half turned towards Kakashi. “Stay with Iruka-sensei.” And then he was giving chase and the room was suddenly quiet.

Iruka was still wrapped in Kakashi’s arms from when he’d almost fallen off the table. Kakashi pulled back, ignoring the blood flowing freely from his own shoulder, and gave him a once over. Iruka was very pale, his face drawn tight with pain, and he didn’t relax now that Himura had gone.

“Let me see your side.” Kakashi pushed up Iruka’s shirt, noticing how Iruka flinched at the action. The sword had sliced him above the hip. It was a flesh wound, nothing serious, but it was still bleeding steadily.

“It’s fine,” Iruka gasped. “Give me a knife.”

He reached into Kakashi’s vest pocket and withdrew a kunai without waiting for a response, and cut the chakra wire from around his wrists, then grabbed Kakashi’s hands and did the same. If Himura did come back, they’d both be able to use jutsu.

Kakashi took the knife, intending to free Iruka’s ankles and then bandage his side, but Iruka grabbed his shirt by the neckline and ripped the fabric, revealing Kakashi’s bleeding shoulder. He pulled Kakashi’s arm sharply, making him sit on the edge of the operating table and then cast a healing jutsu.

“What – Iruka, you’re more injured than I am!”

Iruka’s hands were warm with chakra and he held them close to Kakashi’s wound, careful not to touch the broken skin.

“You’re the one who has to get us both out of here,” Iruka pointed out with far too much presence of mind for someone who’d been abducted and almost murdered. “I don’t think I can walk. All that moving around wasn’t good for my stomach, so you’re going to have to carry me. The longer I leave your arm untreated, the harder that’ll be.”

“Stop being sensible,” Kakashi snapped. “Are you injured apart from your side?”

Iruka shook his head. “What about you, did he get you anywhere else?”

“No, just the shoulder.”

Iruka ducked his head forwards. Some of his hair had fallen loose from his ponytail and Kakashi felt it soft against his skin.

“I’m sorry you got hurt again,” Kakashi said, voice rough with frustration. “I wanted to stop this from happening, but I kept getting distracted by details and missing the big picture. I knew he’d killed Nara but I was too stupid to extrapolate. It never occurred to me that someone could be selfish enough to kill their own lover.”

“Don’t apologise,” Iruka said quietly.

“But –”

Iruka took his hands away and gently kissed the thin red line on Kakashi’s shoulder. “You saved my life.”

Kakashi cupped his face and stroked a thumb along Iruka’s cheekbone. Then he stood to cut Iruka’s ankles free and cast his own healing jutsu over Iruka’s side. Iruka let him, leaning his forehead on Kakashi’s arm.

“It’s all over now,” Kakashi murmured. “Cat will get him. He’s strong, I trust him to finish this.”

“Just because it’s finished doesn’t mean it’s over,” Iruka said against his arm. He sounded exhausted. Now that Kakashi was healed, all the energy seemed to have drained out of him.

“I’ll be there,” Kakashi said simply.

Iruka placed another small kiss above Kakashi’s elbow.

“I know.”

  


* * *

  


Tenzou raced out of the operating room and through the window, but Himura had fled through the building, so Tenzou looped around, intending to cut him off at the main entrance. Himura had clearly realised that no one was on his trail, however, and Tenzou heard the clang of another door somewhere as Himura used a different exit to avoid an ambush.

Tenzou followed the sound, finding a smaller exit around the side of the building. He could feel Himura’s chakra and chased after it, around to the back. There was a space here between the main building and three smaller ones, and Tenzou caught sight of Himura heading towards a pathway that led south out of the hospital complex and towards the village border. Tenzou brought his hands together and a wall of wood slammed out of the ground, forcing Himura to skid to a halt, his way blocked. It was enough of a pause for Tenzou to catch up to him.

“What’s the plan, Himura?” Tenzou moved in to corner Himura against the wooden barrier. “Too many people know about you now; you can’t kill all of us. Are you going to run away and play missing nin until somebody hunts you down? Is that what you lost everything for?”

Himura backed into a defensive crouch, his hands glittering with metal. “I lost everything the day I went blind, but it’s not too late for me to take it back. Maybe not here, but somewhere else where no one knows me. It isn’t over for me, Tenzou. By tomorrow everyone will know what I’ve done, but right now the only person in my way is you.”

A handful of shuriken forced Tenzou to dodge to the side. He expected Himura to make a break past him, but Himura came straight for him, a whirlwind of hard shins and harder elbows, and then a hand snatched the hilt of Tenzou’s sword and unsheathed it in a smooth, quick movement. Himura swung the blade, but Tenzou blocked it with an armoured forearm and managed to connect his other fist with Himura’s throat.

As Himura choked, Tenzou delivered a powerful kick to his leg, and then a second to the side of his head. Himura collapsed to his knees, and branches sprouted out of the ground, winding around his legs and arms, tugging the sword free and letting it clatter to the ground.

“You’re right,” Tenzou said evenly. “It’s just you and me right now. But it looks like I’m enough.”

Himura sent him a look of pure venom, still clutching at his throat and gasping. Tenzou withdrew a pair of chakra repressing cuffs and stepped behind him, but in a single sharp movement Himura had snapped through a branch with a kunai and twisted around to thrust a seal at Tenzou’s throat.

There was a moment of gasping paralysis and then Himura had him pinned beneath him on the ground, the branches withered and useless. Tenzou’s whole body spasmed and he clawed for the seal, but Himura held his arms down. It felt as though the power had been cut to his body, every chakra pathway shutting down and causing a surge of pain to electrify him under his skin. Above him, Himura watched with interest.

“That’s the last chakra repression seal Kaede gave me,” he said. “I always wondered what they’d do to a person.”

Another muscle spasm ripped through Tenzou’s body, almost strong enough to dislodge Himura’s grip, and Tenzou cried out in pain. Chakra wasn’t simply something to be used for jutsu and other shinobi arts: it was an intrinsic and necessary part of the body, like blood. When chakra reserves grew low through extended use, the body suffered from effects similar to physical exhaustion, and that usually happened after a gradual depletion during a fight. Tenzou’s chakra, however, had been cut off in a single moment; his body didn’t know how to cope with the loss and was rapidly going into shock. Tenzou could feel his heart rate skyrocketing and it was becoming difficult to breathe.

Himura glanced up sharply and then someone collided with him, knocking him off Tenzou, who fumbled the seal off his throat with numb fingers and immediately rolled onto his side, pushing his mask up to retch as his chakra systems sparked to life again with a sickening lurch. Somewhere beyond him, he heard the sounds of hand to hand combat, but with his mask pushed up he couldn’t see. The nausea hadn’t completely abated, but Tenzou yanked the mask back into place and looked up in time to see Himura grab Kawaguchi by the throat and slam him bodily back against Tenzou’s wooden barrier.

Kawaguchi brought his hand up to push uselessly against Himura’s shoulder and Tenzou saw Phoenix’s chakra repressing cuffs still attached to his wrist, the other empty cuff hanging free. Kawaguchi’s other hand was limp at his side, the thumb bent inwards at an impossible angle where he’d dislocated it to free himself from the restraints. Himura plucked Kawaguchi’s mask from his face and tossed it aside, his hand still tight around Kawaguchi’s neck. If Kawaguchi was here to try and be a hero, he wasn’t going to be a very effective one with no jutsu and only one working hand. Tenzou tried to push himself upright, but his body was shaking too much to move.

“It was you,” Kawaguchi choked out. “All along. I _comforted_ you when Akane died and you were going to frame me for her murder.”

“What do you want, an apology?” Himura snarled. “You started all of this, had you figured that out yet? You gave Akane the scroll with these seals.” He gestured to his eyes. “I don’t know whether I should thank you or kill you for what you’ve turned me into.”

Behind Himura’s shoulder, Kawaguchi was frantically flashing hand signs at Tenzou. _Distraction. Weapon. Attack._

Tenzou breathed in deeply and gathered enough strength to push his upper body off the ground. He cast about blearily – what weapon was Kawaguchi talking about? – and saw his sword lying nearby where Himura had dropped it. His fingers curled unwillingly around it and he stumbled to his feet, pushing past the pain. Himura was squeezing Kawaguchi’s throat, cutting off his airways completely and when Kawaguchi clawed for his eyes with his good hand, Himura grabbed his wrist and slammed it back against the wood.

The sword was almost too heavy for Tenzou to lift in this state, but he put his hips into the swing and the hilt connected with Himura’s head with a dull smack. Himura collapsed and Tenzou’s knees hit the ground seconds later. He fumbled for his pair of cuffs before remembering he’d taken them out earlier and dropped them when Himura had hit him with the seal.

“Kawaguchi, my cuffs are...” He gestured to the general area around them, and Kawaguchi pushed himself off the wall where he’d been leaning and gasping air back into his lungs.

“Got them.” He scooped up the cuffs and rolled Himura’s unconscious body onto his stomach, binding his wrists together behind his back. “For God’s sake, Tenzou, take that damn mask off and breathe.”

Tenzou feebly tried to push Kawaguchi away, but Kawaguchi ignored him and pulled the mask off his face. It was against protocol for ANBU to remove their mask or any other agent’s mask in a public place, but the nausea subsided as soon as Tenzou could breathe easily without the layer of porcelain over his mouth and nose. Fuck protocol, he’d earned his keep today.

“Did you escape from ANBU custody?” Tenzou asked, eyeing the cuffs on Kawaguchi’s wrist. “What were you thinking?”

“Oh, _thinking_ ,” Kawaguchi said, as though a realisation was dawning. “I knew I’d forgotten something.”

Tenzou listed to the side and Kawaguchi reached out to steady him.

“Shit, are you OK?”

“I think I would have died if you hadn’t come here,” Tenzou confessed, vaguely aware that he was slurring his words. He felt light-headed and almost drunk. “I’m sorry your friend is a serial killer, but I’m glad you’re not.”

“Yeah, me too,” Kawaguchi said, glancing over at Himura. “Look, hang in there a bit longer. ANBU were hot on my heels, they should be here any second and then we can get you to the hospital.”

“OK,” Tenzou said. He leaned more heavily on Kawaguchi, his vision starting to darken around the edges. “Think I’m gonna sleep now.”

“What? No! _ANBU_ is coming! You need to stay awake and tell them I’m not a homicidal maniac!”

But Tenzou was done saving people today. He’d done his job, solved his case and caught the bad guy. It was time for someone else to take a turn. “Tell them yourself,” he mumbled, and then slumped forwards, hoping Kawaguchi would at least have the decency to catch him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! Turns out those ninja action scenes are harder to write than they look.
> 
> To those of you who still have doubts or questions about Kawaguchi’s behaviour, those will be dealt with in the next chapter. There wasn’t space for more exposition here. No more plot twists though, just some nice tying up of loose ends.
> 
> If you want to know how you could have worked out who the killer was, [click here](http://chibi-spork.livejournal.com/62553.html) and you can read the post I put on my LJ about it. I've shown you four different ways you could have gone about it, but there are potentially more. None of them are easy, but all are possible.
> 
> Well done to everyone who worked out any of the clues! There were some wonderfully creative theories out there, some of which would have made great alternative endings, and some of which were _so damn close_. Many of you were on the right track really early on - you made it really difficult for me, because it was very hard to distract you from the fact that Himura was walking around _with someone else's eyes in his face_. Feel free to post a comment and let me know how far you got - I love reading about people's thought processes and theories, and especially if you totally called some (or all) of it, now's your time to brag XD


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Tenzou was waiting to be discharged from the hospital by the time Kakashi turned up to visit.

“God, that was a nightmare,” Kakashi groaned, flopping down in a chair next to Tenzou’s bed. “I hope I never have to set foot in T&I ever again.”

“They made you give a statement?”

“Practically my whole life story. Over and over again.” He sighed and gave Tenzou a quick once over. “I hear you’re getting out of here today. Are you sure that’s a good idea? It’s only been, what, fifteen hours? Something like that? It takes me _days_ to recover from chakra depletion, you can’t do it overnight.”

“The doctors say I’m fine to go home,” Tenzou assured him. “Technically I’m not suffering from chakra depletion. My chakra was still there, it just stopped circulating, and it started flowing again as soon as the seal was removed. There’s some minor damage to my chakra pathways, but as long as I don’t use chakra for a few days, they should heal by themselves.”

“But you were really not OK. Kawaguchi told me about it.”

Tenzou waved away his concerns. “The medics fixed me up and I have a week off work to fully recover. I’m _fine_.”

Kakashi still looked doubtful. “If you say so.”

Tenzou sat up straighter on the bed. He’d already got changed from hospital pyjamas into a set of fresh clothes an ANBU had brought him, ready for when he would be officially set free.

“Tell me what’s happening at T&I. Who’s been dealing with Himura? I swear to God, if Kawaguchi’s trying to close the case after everything that’s happened I’m going to put him under house arrest.”

Kakashi snorted. “Good to see you’re still keeping your senpais in line.” His expression became more serious. “Kawaguchi’s on mandatory compassionate leave and Phoenix is compiling the evidence and preparing for trial. Not that they need much more than Iruka’s testimony since Himura spent so much time bragging to him. They still haven’t found the mask and uniform he stole, but they’ll turn up, I’m sure. Have ANBU been in here pestering you for a statement too?”

“Someone came by earlier, but I’m giving my official statement tomorrow morning. There’s no rush now that Himura’s locked up at T&I. Speaking of which, has Haruki-san been released?”

“Yeah, they let him go right after they spoke to Iruka. At least you won’t have to deal with him or Hiashi spitting fire about that.”

“Not this week anyway,” Tenzou said darkly. “Give it time. How’s Iruka-sensei doing? I’m surprised you’re not with him now, actually.”

Kakashi looked offended. “You think I wouldn’t come and see you? Iruka’s not too bad, all things considered – he’s over at Psych right now. But I would have come to visit you even if he were lying unconscious in a hospital bed, because you’re _both_ important to me.”

Tenzou looked away, embarrassed. “I know. Thank you.”

“Actually _I_ came here to thank _you_. And to apologise.” He held up his hands to silence Tenzou’s protests. “No, really. I know I’ve been completely out of it ever since Iruka was attacked, and you’ve been really understanding but that doesn’t excuse the fact that I’ve caused you a lot of trouble.”

“You’ve already apologised for that. Multiple times,” Tenzou pointed out.

“Yeah, but I still feel like I’ve been a shitty friend. You’ve been saving my ass every five minutes on this case, even right up to the very end. I didn’t think Himura’s genjutsu was that powerful. I’ve never known anyone use it as hypnosis like that, I was completely unprepared.”

Tenzou shook his head. “I didn’t save you from that – Iruka-sensei did. Himura swung the sword right as I came in, I wouldn’t have been fast enough if Iruka-sensei hadn’t stopped him.”

Kakashi smiled fondly. “Iruka was brilliant, but even so, I can’t honestly say I’d have beaten Himura if you hadn’t found us. Not while I was having to protect Iruka at the same time. So thanks for figuring it all out and coming to save the day.”

Tenzou fought off a pleased smile. “Kawaguchi’s the one who realised there were two operating rooms.”

“But he said you’re the one who did all the ass kicking.”

Tenzou laughed. “He’s right. That was all me. But, you know, Kakashi, despite the many headaches you gave me, you did help a lot. When I was hung up on Haruki-san, you’re the one who made me realise that I was ignoring all the signs that he was innocent because I _wanted_ him to be guilty. Don’t get me wrong,” he added hastily. “You may have helped this time, but don’t get any ideas about hijacking any more of my cases. Unless you’re planning on getting a new Hound mask, leave ANBU work alone.”

Kakashi held up his hands sheepishly. “I know, I know. I’ll be good, I promise. And I don’t plan on returning to ANBU any time soon, not while I have three genin to whip into shape for next year’s chuunin exams.”

There was a knock on the door, which then opened to reveal Iruka standing nervously outside. Kakashi immediately stood up and went to help him over to a chair.

“Sorry, did I lose track of the time? I thought your session at Psych was meant to last longer.” Kakashi frowned, suddenly realising something. “Wait, how did you find me?”

Iruka shot a guilty look at Tenzou. “I asked for Tenzou-san’s room at reception.”

Kakashi hesitated. “But I told you I was coming to see –” He stopped, unsure.

“Cat-san, yes. Don’t worry, you didn’t slip up.” Iruka touched Kakashi lightly on the arm and then turned back to Tenzou. “I’m sorry, Himura told me your name. And Kawaguchi-san’s as well.”

“There’s no need to apologise,” Tenzou said. “I’ll have to report it, but I’m not worried. I trust you to keep it to yourself. More importantly, Iruka-sensei, how are you feeling?”

“Sore,” Iruka admitted with a wry smile. “But the medics said there’s no more internal damage, so I should be fine.”

Tenzou wanted to ask about how he was faring psychologically, but as much as he liked Iruka, they barely knew each other and it seemed like too personal a question. “That’s good to hear.”

Iruka ducked his head down again. “I’m also sorry that I was stupid enough to go off with Himura and cause everyone so much stress and worry.”

Kakashi made a noise of protest and reached out to clasp Iruka’s hand tightly. “You couldn’t possibly have known. Everyone had been telling you to trust ANBU and there were all those mixed messages about whether or not we’d actually caught the killer. Plus, if an ANBU really had come to take you somewhere safe, not trusting them would have been dangerous. It was a situation where you couldn’t win.”

“Kakashi’s right,” Tenzou said. “And Himura was a powerful genjutsu user. If he hadn’t been able to lure you away as an ANBU, he would have used an illusion. You might have thought you were following Kakashi or Naruto-kun. No matter what you did, there was no way you could have avoided being taken.”

Iruka looked up and smiled hesitantly. “That makes me feel a little better.”

Tenzou glanced at Kakashi’s hand, which was still curled around Iruka’s and didn’t look like it was going to move any time soon. He looked up and caught Kakashi’s eye and smiled.

“Do you two have to anywhere to be right now?” Tenzou asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” Iruka said.

“Would you mind keeping me company? I should be discharged in about an hour, but I have to wait for the medic to give me a last check-up.”

Kakashi glanced at Iruka, who nodded. “Sure.”

Tenzou raised a warning finger. “But only on the condition that no one tries to apologise for anything else.”

Iruka snickered and Kakashi grinned beneath the mask.

“You have no idea how many years I’ve waited to hear you say that.”

  


* * *

  


Later that afternoon, once Tenzou had been set free of the hospital and Kakashi and Iruka had gone their own way, Tenzou swung by Kawaguchi’s usual restaurant before showing up at his apartment with a carrier bag full of food.

He heard Kawaguchi’s raised voice before Kawaguchi opened the door. He looked harassed, but his expression lightened when he saw Tenzou.

“Oh, they’ve let you out already?” His eyes went down to the bag in Tenzou’s hand. “I’d know that smell anywhere. Tenzou, have I ever told you what a wonderful human being you are?”

“No, but you should do.” Tenzou stepped over the threshold hesitantly. “Is someone else here? I can come back later.”

“It’s fine, I was just about to kick him out.”

Tenzou followed Kawaguchi down the hallway and into the living room, and then stopped dead in the doorway. Haruki was sitting on the couch. His eyes flicked over Tenzou, not recognising him out of uniform, and then fixed on Kawaguchi, who’d become visibly tenser as he’d entered the room.

“Time for me to fuck off then,” Haruki said, seemingly unconcerned.

“It usually is,” Kawaguchi agreed. It was a usual Kawaguchi quip, but something about the way he said it made Tenzou look at him more closely. He could read stress in the line of Kawaguchi’s shoulders, and Kawaguchi seemed unwilling to move any closer to Haruki, content to stand only a couple of paces further into the room than Tenzou, who was hanging back by the door.

Haruki stood up. “And you say I’m rude. Maybe it’s because I hang around you so much that I’ve got an attitude problem. You’re a bad influence.”

Kawaguchi didn’t take the bait. He looked away as Haruki started towards the door, but Haruki stopped in front of him.

“Don’t I at least get an apology for being wrongfully arrested?”

The effect was like stoking embers. Kawaguchi’s head shot up, and the fire was back in his voice. “If you want to blame someone for that, blame Himura. I was following the damn evidence and if I’d ignored everything just for your sake, I wouldn’t deserve to be ANBU. So no, I’m not going to fucking apologise.”

Far from being offended, Haruki looked pleased at the outburst. “Didn’t think so, but you can’t blame me for trying.” He resumed his path towards the door, ignoring Tenzou, but paused and half turned back when he’d stepped out into the hallway. “For the record, I forgive you anyway.”

Kawaguchi whirled around, so that for a moment Tenzou could see the clear distress written on his face, and then the front door shut and Kawaguchi wiped his expression clean and eased the tension out of his shoulders. Undercover specialist, Tenzou remembered. Far too skilled at hiding his thoughts and emotions.

Tenzou put the bag of food down on the coffee table. “You and Haruki-san are _friends_ ,” he accused.

Kawaguchi looked genuinely horrified. “That’s a vicious rumour!”

“He came round here to check up on you. He said something _nice_ to you.”

Kawaguchi sighed and flopped down on the couch. Tenzou unpacked the containers of food and passed Kawaguchi a pair of disposable chopsticks.

“It’s complicated,” Kawaguchi said.

“Because of your history?” When they’d gone to arrest Haruki, Kawaguchi had said something about Haruki forcibly recruiting him to espionage.

“Yeah, basically. I never wanted to go out into the field while I was still a kid, especially with all the shit that was going on at the time. The war, you know? My parents didn’t want me out fighting either. They knew I was advanced for my age, so when I started at the Academy they told me to hide my abilities. I pretended to be average all the way through until my class graduated and I joined a genin team.”

“So what happened?”

Kawaguchi groaned and let his head fall back. “D class missions happened.”

Tenzou let out a bark of laughter. “Six years of the Academy wasn’t enough to bore you, but D class missions were?”

“Shut up! It’s so embarrassing. But it wasn’t just the boredom – it was the _manual labour_. Who could be bothered with that? I wanted to make chuunin so they’d bump me up to B and C missions, but my team wasn’t anywhere near that level so my jounin-sensei wouldn’t enter us.”

“Did they let you enter by yourself?”

“No, the exam structure didn’t allow for solo applicants. So I researched the teams, found a target, and on the day of the first exam I ambushed him and used a henge to enter the exam in his place.”

Tenzou sat up straighter. “That’s why Haruki-san noticed you. You were using undercover techniques, and you had to reveal your identity at the end so they’d pass the right person.”

Kawaguchi leaned forwards and picked up a piece of chicken with his chopsticks. “I’m sure the exam proctors figured out who I was way before then. I knew they would – it’s not like I could make the guy I replaced stay silent, but I was counting on them not to disqualify me because they were impressed. And it worked. I had to infiltrate three different teams, but I made it to the end of the exam and they passed me.”

“But you didn’t fully think out the consequences.”

“I was naive. Word got around, and Haruki figured out I’d been faking everything since I was five, which was practically a lifetime’s worth of undercover training. Then I was sent on a few long-term assignments, living in enemy territory, gathering information. There are certain situations where it’s better to send a child, apparently.” Kawaguchi scowled. “I was out in the field for five years, completely against my will, and it’s all Haruki’s fault. Shit happened on those missions that I was way too young to deal with, but the worst part is that Haruki genuinely believes he did nothing wrong. He knows how strongly I feel about it, but he won’t apologise, and that’s why I can’t get over it.”

Tenzou tapped his chopsticks against his lip. “He must have redeemed himself in some way if you’re friends.”

“He doesn’t think he did anything wrong, but he understands that it affected me and he takes responsibility for that. To give credit where it’s due, he took really good care of me in the field, and afterwards when we worked together in ANBU. He’s a good leader – my niece worships him.” Kawaguchi shook his head in bewilderment. He sounded as though discussing Haruki’s good points was causing him physical pain.

Tenzou mulled this over. Even after learning the truth about the 3am case, he’d been wondering about some of Kawaguchi’s behaviour. The final piece had now clicked into place. "That’s why you kept making mistakes. Not putting a watch on Nara-sensei, freaking out when we were interrogating Haruki-san. I thought maybe you were stressed because you’d been closer to Fujimoto-san than you’d claimed, but you were upset at the thought that Haruki-san might be the killer. It would have meant that a friend of yours had used you to steal the mask and help him murder people.”

“Isn’t that what happened?” Kawaguchi looked down, tightening his grip on the chopsticks. “I just suspected the wrong friend. I hurt Haruki _and_ I was betrayed by Himura. I feel like such a fucking idiot, Tenzou.”

Tenzou put a comforting hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “Himura played us all. The important thing is that we caught him in the end.”

“But that’s not good enough.” Kawaguchi turned his whole body around to face Tenzou on the couch, bringing his hands up to gesture emphatically. “I should have seen it. I should have put all the clues together, but I didn’t because I trusted him too much. I didn’t even tell you about Akane-chan’s research and my role in that because I didn’t want to get Himura into trouble over Akane-chan taking things illegally from the archives. Then I missed the obvious signs. That Nara was Himura’s surgeon, Matsuoka’s eyes, the fucking operating room. I should have put it all together that day in the hospital, if not before.”

“I get it,” Tenzou said softly. “Himura was to you what Kakashi was to me. So many times I found myself thinking that if I didn’t trust him so much, I would have suspected him. You didn’t think Himura could murder Fujimoto-san and I felt the same way about Kakashi and Iruka-sensei. We were both being wilfully blind, and it was just bad luck that you’re the one whose trust was misplaced.” It was chilling to consider the parallels. Tenzou could put himself in Kawaguchi’s shoes all too easily, and it made him feel awful about how he’d so casually given Kakashi information about the case. If Kawaguchi had done the same for Himura, the consequences could have been catastrophic.

“I feel like I helped him,” Kawaguchi confessed. “He said Akane-chan found the seals in a scroll I checked out for her. I never even looked at any of the research, I just wanted to help keep them both out of trouble, but if I’d found the time to pay more attention, or if I’d reported them and stopped the whole project –”

“Stop it,” Tenzou interrupted. “That’s bullshit. You didn’t force Himura to kill people. He and Nara-sensei made their own choices, and it was nothing to do with you. So stop wallowing in guilt. It doesn’t suit you.”

Kawaguchi rested his head against the back of the couch and drew his legs up onto the sofa, food forgotten. “I do know that, logically, but I still messed up in so many ways. Even when things didn’t add up with Haruki, instead of taking it as proof of his innocence, I blamed Kakashi for Nara’s death to make it fit.”

“The whole of ANBU thought Kakashi was somehow involved, either with Nara-sensei or with all of the murders. And actually, your reasoning for Kakashi having orchestrated Nara-sensei’s death was exactly the same as why Kakashi suspected Himura. Both of them knew she was implicated in the murders, both had a close connection to one of the victims and both were emotionally unstable enough to try and get revenge. So Kakashi can’t hold a grudge, because he was following the same logic you were.”

“I apologised to Kakashi yesterday. He said we were even since he’d thought I might be 3am.”

Tenzou looked away guiltily. “I’m sorry for thinking you were the killer. I saw your name on the records for that scroll, and then suddenly everything you’d done seemed suspicious. Requesting the Forest body case, dropping the guard on your house, hiding your friendship with Fujimoto-san, the opportunities you’d had to kill Nara-sensei and plant evidence at Haruki-san’s house...and then Kakashi realised that the profile might be wrong, but only if you were the killer.”

“Wow,” Kawaguchi said, surprised by the length of the list. “I hadn’t realised it was that damning. I made it so much easier for him to frame me by not telling you things. And there were a couple of coincidences that made the whole situation even worse.”

“Why did you dismiss your guard?” Tenzou asked. “If Himura had decided it was easier to frame Haruki he could have killed you!”

Kawaguchi looked away sheepishly. “It was for the same reason I took Kakashi to the shrine.”

“You were using yourself as bait? Without back-up?”

Kawaguchi raised his hands hurriedly, fending off the scolding he knew was imminent. “I know, I know. I promise not to do it again. I wasn’t thinking straight and I made some bad decisions.”

Tenzou massaged his temple. “I've always thought Kakashi would be the death of me, but now I’m not so sure.”

“I’m sorry!”

Tenzou sighed. He could yell at Kawaguchi later. “What drove the nail into the coffin was when I realised you didn’t have an alibi for any of the deaths. That prison shift you swapped on the night of Eri-san’s murder would have been the only one. It looked like you were hiding the shift change because you didn’t fill out the paperwork.”

Kawaguchi laughed. “No, that was me being my normal useless self. Now if you’d found some paperwork I’d filled out perfectly and submitted _on time_ , that would have been suspicious.” He grew serious again. “I didn’t know that was my only alibi. But thinking about it now, Himura got really interested in my shifts not long before Matsuoka died. He hadn’t wanted to discuss ANBU since he’d gone blind, so I thought it was a good sign he suddenly wanted to talk to me about work, but if he was planning on framing me from the beginning, it’s more likely that he was scheduling his murders for nights I wasn’t working.”

Tenzou frowned. “Then what about the prison shift?”

“It was a last minute thing. Whoever was meant to be doing it got reassigned, so I was drafted in.” He sat up straighter with an expression of dawning comprehension. “I was at Himura’s house that afternoon and I told him I’d been pulled in to work. He seemed – shocked. At the time I thought he was humouring me because I was whining about it, but I guess he realised I was about to mess up his plans.”

“Could he have given you the migraine?” Tenzou asked. “That’s one of the most common types of genjutsu – tricking someone into thinking they’re in pain.”

“He must have done. There’s no way I’m buying that it was a coincidence.” Kawaguchi looked frustrated again. “That bastard.”

“He’s going to get what he deserves.” Tenzou nudged Kawaguchi. “Stop moping and eat. I didn’t buy all this for you to ignore it.”

“You bought way too much,” Kawaguchi said, but he reached out and popped a piece of tempura in his mouth. “Though I’m not complaining. You’ve somehow managed to buy all of my favourite foods.” He paused and looked at Tenzou suspiciously. “Did you do that on purpose? How did you know?”

Tenzou shrugged. “You’re always eating takeout from this place, but you have different things and I didn’t know which one you liked best. So I bought them all, to make sure I got your favourite.”

Kawaguchi stared at him. “You’re a shining beacon of humanity.”

“You’d say that to anyone who brought you food.”

“Shining,” Kawaguchi insisted. “Like a newbie’s armour on their first patrol.”

Tenzou snorted and stole the last piece of tempura.

“You know the biggest clue to why I couldn’t have been the killer?” Kawaguchi said. He seemed to have perked up a bit and Tenzou was relieved to see it. “The sheer amount of effort that went into all that murdering. Like I could be bothered with that. I’d have to be _really_ motivated to kill four people.”

Tenzou paused with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. “That wasn’t as reassuring as it probably sounded in your head.”

“Really?”

“Let’s make a deal. You try and never feel that motivated and I’ll help you with your paperwork, senpai.”

Kawaguchi grinned. “I’m going to enjoy making you regret that.”

  


* * *

  


Naruto put his hands on his hips and looked at Kakashi sternly.

“You need to remember to set the wards before Iruka-sensei goes to bed, and make sure he sleeps in his _bed_ because he gets tired a lot and falls asleep on the couch.”

“Got it,” Kakashi said. Behind him on the couch, Iruka was trying unsuccessfully to stifle his laughter.

“And he’s still healing so he needs to eat proper food,” Naruto continued. “He’ll try and live off instant ramen because he can make it himself, but you can’t let him.”

“Is there something wrong with living off instant ramen?” Kakashi asked innocently.

Naruto stabbed a finger in his face. “My body can handle it because I’m young and healthy, but Iruka-sensei isn’t!”

Iruka spluttered. “Are you calling me _old_?”

“You’re _twenty-three_ ,” Naruto said in the tones of one who couldn’t fathom such an age.

An oversized and overstuffed backpack was sitting at his feet, crammed with everything he’d need to stay over at the Uchiha compound for a few days. Kakashi had convinced him and Sasuke that it would be good for them to regain their independence, and better if they did it together. Naruto had been extremely reluctant to leave Iruka, even after Kakashi had promised not to leave his side for the foreseeable future and had only relented when Kakashi had suggested that maybe Sasuke needed someone brave to keep him company at the compound for a while. He dearly hoped that Sasuke never found out.

“I’ll come and check up on you tomorrow,” Naruto promised. “So if Kakashi-sensei doesn’t take good care of you, make sure you tell me.”

“I will,” Iruka said.

Naruto cast one last suspicious glare at Kakashi before hoisting the backpack over one shoulder. “OK, I’m going now.”

Kakashi waved, and Naruto finally left the flat and locked the front door behind him.

Now that they were alone, Kakashi slipped his mask down over his chin and sat next to Iruka on the sofa, close enough for their thighs to brush together, his arm around Iruka’s shoulders. Iruka leaned into him.

“It’ll be strange without him here,” Iruka mused. “But he needs to get back to having a life outside of taking care of me.”

“Maa, once he’s had a few arguments with Sasuke he’ll have forgotten all about you.”

Iruka snorted. “Thanks. That was so comforting.”

Kakashi smiled and flicked the end of Iruka’s ponytail. Iruka turned his face into Kakashi’s neck and Kakashi felt a soft sigh against his skin. He didn’t want to interrupt the moment of peace, but there was something he had to ask.

“Did you go to your psych appointment earlier?” 

Iruka drew back a little and looked away.

“Yes, but not for the whole session,” he said. “I left early.”

“Have you decided whether you want to go back?”

Iruka was silent for a moment. “You’re not going to insist I do?”

“No. You can make your own decisions.”

Iruka fiddled with the hem of Kakashi’s shirt. “I don’t know.”

“Well, there’s no pressure. Think about it for a while.”

Kakashi placed a kiss on his jawbone and Iruka tilted his head to fit their lips together. The kiss was soft and unhurried and Kakashi thought, not for the first time, that there was something strangely familiar about kissing Iruka, as though he’d been doing it in his dreams his whole life.

Yesterday evening, after he and Iruka had been examined at the hospital and briefly questioned by ANBU, Kakashi had stayed with him at the flat. Naruto had been waiting, still teary and worried half out of his mind, and had insisted on sleeping in the bed with Iruka. Kakashi had slept in Naruto’s room and hadn’t seen how Iruka had fared during the night, but he suspected Iruka had been exhausted enough to fall asleep. He didn't think it would be so easy tonight. Today, as the afternoon darkened into evening, he could already see the stress building in Iruka’s muscles and the lines of his face.

“Shall we head to bed?” he asked at around half past ten.

“It’s still early,” Iruka said without looking at him.

“But you’re tired,” Kakashi observed. “And I’m ready for bed. Can I sleep in your room with you?”

Iruka nodded slowly.

“Come on.” Kakashi stood up and held out his hand and Iruka took it grimly.

It took Iruka a while to get ready for bed, but one of the things Naruto had mentioned in his parting mission briefing was that everything happened slowly at the moment, so Kakashi didn’t worry. He settled into the bed, the only light coming from the bedside lamp, and read a few pages of a book while he waited.

When Iruka did appear, his hair was loose around his shoulders and he was wearing only an old, oversized t-shirt over his boxers. It was enough of a distraction that Kakashi lost his place on the page.

“Do you mind?” Iruka asked, embarrassed. “Bending over is the most painful action, so after taking my trousers off the last thing I want is to put on pyjama pants.”

Kakashi could have offered to help with that. He didn’t.

“Wear whatever’s comfortable,” he said instead, pulling back the duvet on Iruka’s side of the bed.

Iruka slowly climbed into the bed and lay on his side facing Kakashi, who put his book down and lay on his own pillow, the lamp still spilling soft light over them. He wasn’t sure if Iruka would want his own space, but then Iruka snagged his hand in Kakashi’s shirt and pulled him closer until they were inches apart.

“I missed you,” Iruka said softly. “I feel like it’s been years since we spent time together.”

Kakashi rested an arm over Iruka’s hip. “I intend to make up for that as much as possible.”

He leaned in for a kiss, Iruka’s hand warm against his chest, and then slipped his hand up under Iruka’s t-shirt, gently stroking the skin along his side. Iruka stiffened and pulled away.

“I can’t – right now,” he said. “I know we’re in bed together, but…”

Kakashi was thrown for a moment before he realised how intimately his hand was placed.

“Oh, I didn’t mean it sexually,” he said hastily. “It’s just – I like –” He shrugged and smiled. “Your skin is soft.”

Iruka looked at him for a long moment and then reached up to run his hand through Kakashi’s hair and down to cup his jaw.

“I think you’re exactly what I need right now,” he said softly.

They lay together for a few more minutes, and Kakashi became aware that although Iruka had relaxed, he was growing tense again, no matter how soothingly Kakashi stroked his hip or his hair.

“You should turn out the light,” Iruka said eventually.

Kakashi glanced up at the lamp and then back down at Iruka.

“I could leave it on.”

Iruka curled up tighter into himself. “No, I need to deal with this. I’m not a frightened child and I can’t act like one.”

“You’re not. But you don’t have to do everything at once.”

“I thought it would be fine when you were here,” Iruka admitted quietly. “And it helps, but I’m still…”

Kakashi kissed him on the temple. “I’m not a magic switch that can turn off trauma. I wish I was, but that’s not how it works. You can’t throw yourself straight back into the place where you were hurt and power through the fear. I’ve known other people who’ve gone through awful experiences, and some of them tried to force themselves better, but it never works. It’s not about being weak or strong, Iruka. You’ve gone past the point where that makes any difference.”

Iruka was lying very still. “You didn’t sign up to deal with this when you wanted to be with me.”

“My feelings for you aren’t dependent on anything,” Kakashi said simply. “They don’t have limits or restrictions or terms and conditions.”

Iruka touched Kakashi’s face. “I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered.

“Me too,” Kakashi murmured. “Now go to sleep. If you have bad dreams, wake me up and I’ll chase them away.”

“OK.”

The lamp stayed on, the light soft and unobtrusive, and Kakashi stroked Iruka’s hair until he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, it's over. Thanks to everyone who's read, left kudos, bookmarked, subscribed and/or commented. You've made me so happy <3
> 
> Until next time!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Bleed Out [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9141397) by [lattice_frames](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lattice_frames/pseuds/lattice_frames)




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